As Good As On Paper COMPLETE!
by Bren Williams - Lady Brenlis
Summary: If you want a story that feels realistic, and will make you laugh as well as cry, than this one is for you. Drama mixed with fun, romance, and unexpected developments for Castle and Beckett.
1. Hold the Coffee

_My thanks to my husband and Nerwen Aldarion for the first reviews and encouragement. If you're hoping for the story behind Exquisite Hell, my apologies, this isn't it. But it's coming, someday. Story title, "As Good As On Paper" is a working title and may change at some point._

**_Revision December 2011:_**

_In case you missed it, ****__this is a SEASON TWO story._ Castle and Beckett have not yet figured out they're in love, Kate never met Tom Demming, Castle never rekindled things with Gina, and Chet is still alive. _In other words, this story goes __A/U (_Alternate Universe) in late season 2. There are spoilers for some Season Two episodes.

___The story opens in September 2010._

* * *

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

**Hold the Coffee**

**(Day 14)**

**CHAPTER ONE**

Detective Kate Beckett hovered just inside the break room, her hand over her nose and mouth. "Oh," she grimaced, suddenly very still.

Rick Castle turned toward her, bright green mug in hand and eyes round in surprise. "What's wrong?" His sharp eyes took in her suddenly pale skin, "Are you sick?"

"No, I—Yes!" Beckett spun on her heel and fast walked down the hall to the restroom. Castle watched her go in confusion before turning back to the espresso machine.

Moments later, he meandered into the bullpen, one eye on the door as he perched on the edge of Ryan's desk. "Did you lose a bet?"

"What?"

"That tie. You lost a bet right?" Esposito looked up from his own desk and caught Castle's eye. He grinned behind Ryan's back.

"Ah, Right. Very funny."

Castle was all innocence, "What?" He set the steaming green mug down, while he sipped his own latte.

Ryan smoothed the brightly colored satin, "Jenny gave me this. It's our anniversary."

Castle choked on his latte. Recovering, he was aghast "You mean you wore that _on purpose?" _

There was a sudden fit of coughing from Esposito. "Which anniversary is this, Bro?" Esposito inquired, "Seven months? Eight months? Eight and a half?"

Ryan glared at Esposito's back and Castle equally. "Very funny," he reached for something to drink, "You guys are hilarious." He was lifting Castle's second mug for a taste when Castle noticed.

"Whoa!" Castle pulled the green mug away, "That's Beckett's, sorry." Then he cursed as hot coffee splashed over the side of his own cup and onto his fingers.

"Here ya go, Bro," Esposito handed Castle a wad of tissues.

"Thanks."

"Oh don't thank me, it's Ryan's anniversary gift."

"How's that?"

"Tissue, the approved anniversary gift for a 38 week relationship."

"One year, it's our one year—"

"Ryan, you and Esposito pull our vic's financials." Beckett had returned to the bullpen. The two detective's raised their eye brows at each other in silent commentary at Beckett's unexpectedly terse tone. She seated herself at Vi-Cap and began entering info. Castle, carrying the two mugs of coffee, returned to his seat.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah, kind of odd how that came on me so fast." She shrugged, "Just nauseous."

Castle set her mug in front of her then took his seat, "Maybe—"

"Oh, God!" Beckett covered her mouth and nose, rolling swiftly away from her desk.

"What?"

"The coffee—Get it away!"

Startled, Castle leaped up, whisking both mugs away to the break room. A moment later he returned.

"Davis had a restraining order against our vic six months ago." Beckett's attention was absorbed completely by her work.

Castle's eyes narrowed as he inspected her appearance, taking in her still pale face. "Detective Beckett?" he resumed his usual seat without taking his eyes off her. "You okay?"

Beckett nodded, "For some reason the smell of coffee isn't agreeing with me today." She didn't look away from her screen.

Castle settled back into his chair, staring at Beckett with an odd expression. So intent was he that he didn't even hear her follow up question. "No idea," he stared at his hands, folded in his lap, "How long has the smell of coffee made you nauseous?"

"Just today," Beckett didn't immediately look up. "Were you even listening to my question?" she glanced over and cocked a brow at him.

"No," he leaned forward murmuring, "Does anything else affect you that way?"

"Yes," Beckett snapped, "Coffee _breath_." Her eyes flashed in annoyance. "Are we going to solve a murder today or are we going to sit around comparing nose hairs?"

"Murder. Your nostrils are far too dainty for counting nose hairs."

Beckett rolled her eyes as she turned back to the screen.

"Before we get back to the case," Castle's voice was pitched for her ears alone, "Can I ask you a serious question?"

Slowly, almost unwillingly, Beckett turned back to Castle, her fingers still poised over the keys, "A serious question, Castle? I might fall over in shock." A small line appeared between her brows, belying her sardonic tone. She bit her lip slightly, waiting for the question.

Castle leaned closer, his head tipped so his breath blew away from her face. She held her breath anyway. "I've really only seen someone react to smells so strongly once, and then," he paused, licking his lips. Beckett frowned slightly, waiting for him to finish. "Detective, is it possible," his slight frown mirrored hers as he leaned closer, his lips to her ear, "Could you be pregnant?"

Beckett sucked a breath in as she snapped straight up in her chair, furious. She wavered slightly at the scent of coffee clinging to him. "What?" Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm just asking—"

Beckett cut him off. "None of your business—" she didn't finish the thought before spewing, "Where I go, and who I sleep with is—"

"I'm just asking—" Castle pulled away from her furious expression, his hands raised as in self-defense, "because the smell—"

"I'm _not_ pregnant!" she hissed for his ears alone. She turned back to Vi-Cap then spun back to whisper furiously, "And if I were, it certainly wouldn't be _yours_!"

"Am I interrupting something?" It was Lanie Parish, the medical examiner. So intent were they on their argument, neither heard her approach.

"No!" Identical scowls passed between them, highlighting the mutual lie.

Brows delicately arched, Lanie looked from one to the other. "If that's nothing, I'd hate to be around when you two decide to have a knock-down-drag-out—"

"What is it, Lanie?"

Lanie's eyebrows shot up further at Beckett's abrupt tone. "Well, Beckett, when you're finished _not_ _arguing_ with Castle, I've got Nelson's identification in about fifteen minutes."

Beckett nodded to Lanie, coldly turning away from Castle.

"Do you want to meet me at Guedo's or walk over together?"

Castle sat up straighter, "Guedo's? As in the cantina over on E 29th and 3rd?"

Beckett answered as though Castle had never spoken. "_I_ will wait and we can walk over together." The subtle emphasis on _I_ making it clear who was invited and who was not.

Castle frowned at Beckett who deliberately ignored him.

"I'll let you get back to—" Lanie glanced from one to the other again, "—_not_ arguing."

A frosty silence lingered in the wake of Lanie's departure as Castle watched Beckett pretend he didn't exist. "You're going out with Lanie?"

Silence.

"You're going out drinking." It was not a question.

"Yes," Beckett replied calmly, "and it's none of your business who I wake up with in the morning."

There was a beat and Castle muttered, "We both know that won't be happening."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, "What's _that _supposed to mean?"

He gave her a level look, "I am referring to your preference for sneaking out in the middle of the night instead of waking up in bed with your—"

Beckett flushed, her mouth dropping open in outrage. She recovered and retorted, "Maybe I don't bother sticking around for men who clearly aren't up to _scratch_." A quick downward flick of her eyes made her meaning abundantly clear.

Castle sat straight up, furious. He opened his mouth, and snapped it shut again. He leaned forward, hissing, "Fine. Sleep with whatever _pregnophile_ will have you. But alcohol and pregnancy—"

"Pregnophile?" Beckett was incredulous, "Where—" She closed her eyes for a second and gave a little shake of her head, as though to clear it. When she spoke again, her voice was controlled and icy.

"_You_ are not my husband or my lover or even my partner and what you think has no bearing _what so ever_ on what I do!" Beckett leaned closer to be sure the few detectives left in the bullpen did not over hear. "As I already explained, I am _not_ pregnant," she glared at him.

He glared back, his knuckles were white, so hard was he gripping the arms of his chair.

"So, unless you have anything meaningful to contribute to the case," she turned away, "You can leave me to get my work done."

"Fine." Castle rose and stalked away. Beckett did not watch him go.

* * *

A half hour later someone cast a shadow over Beckett's desk. She looked up, hoping it would be Lanie. Seeing Castle, she rolled her eyes and sighed. She leaned back in her chair, "Now what?" Her arms were crossed over her chest.

He didn't smile, only took his seat. His brow furrowed as he carefully chose his words. "It is not my intention to annoy you, irritate you, or weasel you into doing anything you don't want to do."

"And yet somehow, that is exactly why you're here."

A glimmer of a smile teased at the corner of his mouth, then flitted so swiftly away she wondered if she'd imagined it. "If I'm satisfied you—" he looked around, verifying they were alone before beginning again, "If I'm satisfied you aren't pregnant," his blue eyes bore into hers, "I will go home and leave you alone for the rest of the week."

One eyebrow arched in eloquent reply. "Mighty generous offer for a Thursday evening." She regarded him coldly. "What? You want me to take a pregnancy test or something?" For answer, he reached into his sports coat and the corner of a small white box appeared behind his lapel. "You're joking!" Beckett's arms uncrossed and she sat up straighter. "I'm _not_ pregnant," she hissed again, "I'm extremely careful—"

"And yet you feel unmistakably queasy at a scent you previously enjoyed," Castle leaned toward her again, running his hand through his hair, "Look, the thought of you going out with Lanie, _not_ knowing for certain is making me nuts."

Beckett opened her mouth to argue. He raised a hand and she remained silent. "I think you will concede that if you are, in fact, pregnant," he held her gaze with his own, "there is," he hesitated, suddenly less sure of himself, "a reasonable chance the child would be mine."

Beckett's mouth flattened into a thin line, and two red spots appeared in her cheeks. She crossed her arms and looked away, but did not deny it.

Castle sighed but continued. "If you would take a few moments to do this small thing, if for no other reason than for my peace of mind, I would be extremely grateful."

Castle did all he could to keep his gaze neutral as her dark green eyes stared into his. His voice was very quiet. "If it's negative, I'll go home and never say another word about it."

"Fine." Beckett's tone was clipped as she pulled her purse out of the desk drawer, holding it open as Castle dropped the white box into its depths. He gazed up into her face, his lips parted as though he wanted to speak, but her heels were already clicking down the hall. He watched her until she disappeared from view.

* * *

_Reviews are wonderful, and constructive criticism is always appreciated._

_Guedo's Cantina & Taco Shop can be found in downtown Chandler, AZ. It's always our first stop on the way to Grandma's from the airport. I recommend the super veggie bean and rice burrito. It's gooooood!_


	2. Bathroom Ballad

Thank you to all of my reviewers. I apologize for not responding personally, but it was a busy weekend.

* * *

_**Bathroom Ballad **_

_**CHAPTER TWO**_

"Castle."

"Hey, Lanie," Castle glanced at her before turning back to stare at the restroom door.

She frowned at him, "You alright?"

Unable to trust his voice, Castle nodded without looking at her.

"Seen Beckett?"

When he answered his voice was deeper than usual, _Husky_, she decided. "She's in there." He tipped his head toward the bathroom door. With a last quizzical glance at the hunched and uncharacteristically grave figure standing in the hall behind her, Lanie disappeared into the restroom.

"Beckett? You in here?" she headed for the single latched door in the long line of bathroom stalls.

"Lanie?" Kate's voice sounded tight, squeaky in her own ears. Inside the stall, Beckett closed her eyes as she dashed the tears from her cheeks and fumbled to open the door.

"Girl, what is going on? Castle is standing out there looking more like a lost puppy than a man with his kind of money and looks has any right to and you're hiding—" Her words trailed off and her eyes widened at the sight of her friend's face, flushed with emotion. Her eyes all the brighter for unshed tears.

Beckett's chin dimpled as she choked on her emotions. She gestured Lanie to follow her as she stepped into the more spacious end stall.

"Honey, what is going on?" Lanie breathed, and was mercifully silent, waiting.

"Oh God, Lanie!" Kate paced the tiny area, her arms folded over the tight knot in her belly. "He's out there waiting and I, oh God! What am I going to tell him?"

"Tell him? About what?"

Kate stopped pacing and faced Lanie. "I—" her glistening eyes were wide, frightened. "I'm_" she swallowed, closed her eyes and reached into her pocket and pulled out a white capped plastic stick.

"Wha—? Girl, if that's what I think it is then you've got some explaining to do." Lanie took the test from her but kept her eyes on Kate. "You're pregnant." It wasn't a question.

Kate nodded.

"And Castle's the father."

"Yes! Oh God! Why him?"

"Just off the cuff, I'd say it's because he's the one you slept with." Lanie threw Beckett a calculating look, the corner of her mouth turning up, "So, how was he?"

"Castle?" Beckett fixed Lanie with an incredulous stare.

Lanie grinned back at her, "Was he as good in bed as he thinks he is on paper?"

Beckett pinched the bridge of her nose, "I can't _believe_ we're having this conversation right now." She shook her head.

"Alright, details later." Lanie glanced at the test. "If you stay in here much longer then he's liable to come in after you."

Pacing again, Beckett nodded reluctant agreement.

"You can try to leave without—"

"Kate?" They hadn't heard the door open, but his deep voice called out hesitantly.

"Damn," she looked to Lanie for help.

Lanie handed the test back to her friend. "Tell him," she whispered.

Beckett gritted her teeth, "I'll be right there." They heard the door close and inwardly Kate congratulated herself for how normal her voice sounded. "He's gone."

Beckett pushed the door open and headed to the sink, running refreshingly cool water over hands. She patted her face carefully before checking her reflection. She sighed, "You're right. He'd never believe me if I lied. She took a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, left the room.

Castle tried to look relaxed as he lounged outside the women's room, staring without seeing the FBI's most wanted board. A slight creak from the opening door jolted him and he whirled to face Kate Beckett as she walked toward him. He met her in the middle of the empty hallway, wanting to speak but finding himself strangely without words.

She wasn't smiling. Her jaw was set and if he'd had to name it, he would have said she looked determined.

"Kate," he began.

He glimpsed something small just as she slapped it into his hand. "Congratulations, Castle," she muttered grimly as she walked away.

He gasped, looking down at the test in his hand, at the one vivid fuchsia line, indicating the test worked, and a fainter line next to it. Clearly, the test was positive. _Oh my God! _ "Kate!"

She was already down the hall, head down and did not react to his voice. Lanie passed him, pausing just long enough to give him an unreadable glance as she hurried to catch up with Beckett.

* * *

_I've had a few pregnancy comments, and since it doesn't spoil the story enjoyment, here's a little background. First, pregnancy tests can give a true positive in as short a time as 2 days. The earlier the test is taken, the fainter the line is going to be. If the line is there at all, it indicates a pregnancy is progressing. Second, the morning sickness. Of course every pregnancy is different. Some women in my family have indeed experienced it that early, although that certainly isn't the norm. This may not come up later so I don't mind telling you now, Kate didn't actually throw up. She felt sick to her stomach and left the room suddenly, but that's as far as it has gone at this point._

Reviews are wonderful!


	3. Milk & Martinis

_Thank you very much for the kind reviews._

_These characters are not mine and never will be. Neither do I intend to profit by them._

_

* * *

_

**_Milk & Martinis _**

**_CHAPTER THREE_**

"Do you want the Egg Flower or Hot and Sour Soup?" Lanie turned to Kate, a white container in either hand. Kate looked up from where she was pulling plates down from the cupboard. "Egg Flower. I doubt my stomach could handle the other."

Lanie nodded, setting the containers on the table. "And what are we drinking tonight? Milk for you and a martini for me?" Lanie teased.

Kate made a face. "I think I'll stick with calcium fortified orange juice. But I might have some vodka or tequila if you want."

"No way, Baby. I'm drinking what you're drinking," Lanie assured her from behind the fridge door. "But I'll take my OJ on the rocks."

Kate gave a half smile as she pulled a couple of tumblers down. "I suppose I could dig out a lime and salt so we can pretend we're having orange margarita shots."

"Now that's the spirit!" Lanie approved.

"Why don't you grab some silverware and we'll divvy up." Kate sat at the small table, looking tired. For several minutes the two women didn't speak as they piled their plates with pork fried rice and chicken chow mein. They ate in silence for a time.

"So are you going to tell me how you and Castle managed to finally hook up after _a year and a half_?"

Kate sighed, pushing her spoon around the bottom of her soup container. "What do you want to know?"

"When?"

"It was while we were investigating the Yencopal murder. You remember how annoying that one was, all those possible killers, everyone alibing for everyone else?"

"Right, until forensics came back implicating Bowman and Marlowe."

Kate nodded. "We'd been downtown checking alibis all afternoon. We were starving, and Alexis called her dad to say she'd ordered too much food from Rigatony's."

"Rigatony's? On Columbus Circle? Must have been rough."

"Right. We were in the area, so Castle invited me up for dinner. We ate, had some beers."

"Mmm hum?" Lanie muttered around a mouthful of Chinese noodles.

Kate put her fork down and leaned back in her chair. "It had been such a frustrating day. The family were all trying to protect each other. Their stories were all coordinated," Kate shook her head at the memory. "At first I thought we'd eat and I'd get back to it. But Castle told me to relax. He offered me a lager and I knew I shouldn't if I wasn't done working for the night, b—"

"But you had it anyway."

Kate nodded as she took a tiny bite of her chicken chow mein. "And a few besides," she muttered around her mouthful.

"Soooo, Castle got you drunk."

Kate reflected for a moment. "Not really. I wasn't even tipsy. Just relaxed." She took a sip before adding dryly, "Very relaxed."

"And what?" Lanie waited impatiently, "He couldn't keep his hands off you?"

Kate sat up a little straighter, her eyes wider, "No, he was a perfect gentleman."

Lanie's brows raised, "Castle? A perfect gentleman?" her tone left no doubt as to the likelihood of that happening.

"Almost," she qualified, with a hint of a smile. She gave a half shrug, "We finished eating and Alexis had already downloaded a movie. I knew I really shouldn't stay, that I should play it safe, go back to work or go home. But I was relaxed and enjoying myself for the first time all week." She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.

"You and Castle watched a movie with Alexis? Is there any sex coming anytime soon?"

Kate couldn't stop a wry grin. "I didn't realize you're such a voyeur, Dr. Parish." She swirled her juice around her tumbler, as though she were enjoying the bouquet of a fine wine.

"You've been playing hard to get with Castle for a year and a half and all of a sudden—" Lanie hesitated. Frowning she changed her tactic. "Absolutely, I want details." She leaned toward Beckett, chin in her hand, waiting.

Kate sighed, rubbing her forehead as she stared at the remaining juice in her glass. "I fell asleep during the movie, leaning against him," she paused, considering her words. "When I woke up, Alexis had gone up to bed, the movie was over," her voice trailed off, remembering. "It was a mutual thing." Abruptly Kate set her glass down and rose to take her half eaten dinner to the sink.

"Honey, you're not finished? You hardly touched your dinner."

"No, that's all for now." Kate dumped her plate in the sink with an uncharacteristic clatter, tension making her movements a trifle jerky. She paused, staring through the window at the neighboring building and seeing nothing. "I meant, that's all I can _eat_ right now. I just feel a little," she searched for the word, "off." She hugged herself chaffing her arms.

"Let's talk about something else." Kate turned back to Lanie who watched her with too much concern in her eyes. She forced a bit of pep into her voice, "How's your sister? Did she make up with your mom yet?"

Lanie's big brown eyes were solemn as she regarded Kate. "You don't have to do this."

"What? Talk about it?"

"No." Lanie frowned at her plate. "I mean I've been there, Kate," she fidgeted with her fork.

The silence stretched between them until Kate broke it. "What do you mean?" Her voice was soft, hesitant.

"Alone. Pregnant. The future unknown." There was another clatter as Lanie dropped the fork and looked up at Kate. She carefully blotted her mouth on a napkin. "You don't have to take that road." She met Kate's eyes, and Kate held them, swallowing around a lump in her throat.

Lanie sighed heavily. Her beautiful eyes closed for a moment then she looked at Kate. "I was a freshman on full-ride scholarship at Columbia. My future was ahead of me, so full of possibilities and then," She shrugged and looked off into the distance. "It was a choice between an education for myself, or dropping out." Her face hardened slightly, but the sadness remained. "It wasn't much of a choice."

Kate reached out to clasp Lanie's hand as she took her seat. Lanie gave her a sad little smile. "Thank you," Kate whispered.

Lanie's soulful eyes looked into Kate's. A smile hovered at the corners of her mouth, "What are friends for."

* * *

This story is not intended to push any political or moral agenda, so please accept it as it was intended, as a story about people living their lives.

Guedo's Cantina and Taco Shop and Rigatony's Italian Restaurant can both be found in Chandler, Arizona. They say "Write what you know." So I did! Heh heh!

Reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated.


	4. Pillow Thoughts

_**Pillow Thoughts **_

_**CHAPTER FOUR**_

Kate closed the door behind Lanie and leaned against it, her mind still reeling from the evening's revelations. _Pregnant_! M_y God!_

She pushed away from the door, compulsively tidying the already tidy space. She straightened the pile of books on her sideboard table, depositing glasses of melting ice in the kitchen. She glanced around for something else to do. All was in place. She sighed and flicked off the lights.

Her teeth brushed and flossed in record time, she vigorously splashed cool water on her face, and patted dry. Lowering her towel, she found her own eyes in the mirror. She looked frightened to herself, vulnerable. _How did mom feel when she found out about me?_ She shook her head. _Drastically different situations. Mom and Dad had been married six years with three miscarriages behind them… hoping this might be the one carried to term._

_Not the same situation at all._

Trying to shake off her melancholy thoughts, Kate stepped into her bedroom. As always, she tucked her service piece under her extra pillow and dropped her phone next to her bed before pulling off her belt. Her clothes sailed one at a time through the air to the hamper. Wearing only undergarments, she caught her reflection in the mirror.

"_You're so beautiful,"_ _he'd murmured, his lips trailing across her belly._ A slight frown marred her brow. She tried to imagine her figure as it might be in nine months. _The belly,_ her frown deepened, _bigger boobs,_ speculation chased the frown away. _Will Castle still think I'm sexy?_ Disgusted with herself she shook her head. It's not as though it matters. He'd be running scared, as likely as not. She grabbed a chemise from a drawer and thrust her head and arms into it, determined not to think of him.

There was nothing keeping her from bed. She flicked off her light and slid in, reveling in the coolness of her sheets, stretching out at last.

_What will Dad say? _She imagined several scenarios, each stumbling to a halt when Dad asked who'd fathered her baby. Frowning, she rolled onto her side. What if she did as Lanie'd suggested? Dad would never need to know. Surely, Castle wouldn't give her a problem? She allowed herself a moment to contemplate Castle's reaction. Surely, he wouldn't want complications to his relatively fast and free lifestyle.

Unbidden, an image of Alexis and her adoring father came to mind. The look she gave him as she tipped her face toward his, trusting, beloved. _He adores Alexis. _That much was obvious whenever they were together. But starting over with another baby? Uncertainty crept in. Well, Castle had surprised her before.

_Mom had fertility problems. What if I do too? What if this is my only chance to be a mom?_ An alternate future stretched ahead of her, a future full of friends and companionship, but devoid of the intense attachment of parenthood. A future without the vicarious renewal of a mother-daughter relationship…

A pricking began behind her eyelids. A deep longing for the softness and warmth she'd known only with her mom crept in. _Damn it, this isn't how this is supposed to happen!_ She longed to sit down with her mom and a mug of steaming tea and honey and pour out the whole story. The corners of her mouth pulled down as a tear dripped onto her pillow.

She shook it off and rolled onto her stomach, punching her pillow several times. She tried to clear her mind, to allow her exhaustion to lull her into sleep.

She thought of Castle and Alexis again, remembering in vivid detail the first time she'd met the girl, bailing her father out of jail and jibing him that if it kept up he'd have to raise her allowance. A hint of a smile appeared as she remembered her first trip to their home, to be greeted at the door with the pair decked out in pricey Lazer Tag gear, complete with flashing lights. Then two weeks ago, Castle cuddling her on the couch; teasing her about her crush on that movie star.

Kate had slid onto the sofa beside them. Partway into the movie, she told herself it was the apartment's chill making her lean into him. She pretended not to notice his arm across the back of the couch behind her moments later. Alexis was gone when she awakened in the darkened loft, to find Castle watching her. He'd been limned in shadows and the glow from a now silent TV.

She should have left then. She should have left _before_ the movie! She'd had no business cuddling up to him, or falling asleep on his shoulder. She frowned into the darkness trying to shake off the memories of the way she'd leaned in for that first kiss, or the way his hands cupped her cheeks. She blushed to remember how she'd reached for him with abandon.

_Is this what you want?_ He'd asked her in surprise as she straddled him in the dim apartment, her hands were everywhere. For answer she'd pulled her shirt off and let it drop, her eyes met his. He'd reached for her then, taking her to his room, and matching her passion with his.

It'd been good.

She'd wanted him in that deep primal way that sometimes happens when she awakened to her senses but not her sense. She'd fumbled with his buttons till his shirt parted to her reaching fingers. She hadn't been content until their clothes were strewn about the floor and they lay entwined on his bed, her aching need to be filled satisfied.

Kate rolled onto her back, a slight smile touched her lips. Her limbs feeling deliciously heavy as exhaustion invaded her body. The memories came back to her, as they always did when sleep won the battle again, tearing away the carefully constructed walls warding her memories of her short time in Rick Castle's arms.

He'd murmured into her hair as he cradled her in his arms. She struggled to come to grips with how she'd landed in the bed of a man she'd once sworn never to sleep with. He was too drowsy to notice how she stiffened, too dark to see how her expression became unexpectedly still.


	5. Frustrating Fascination

_Thanks to Corlando for helping me work out some details to give my story a more authentic New York feel. And thank you again to my previewers. (You know who you are!)__I appreciate the thought and time it takes to give me detailed feedback that is also useful. And t__hank you again for all the reviews. They are very motivating, and I love it!_

_

* * *

_

**_A Frustrating Fascination_**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Richard Castle was in no mood for company. Ordinarily he took a taxi home, or the subway if it was convenient. Tonight he walked. Meandered, really, through the hordes of pedestrians and passed shops and street vendors packing their carts away for the night. Not wanting to be recognized, he pulled his sunglasses on. His head was down and a slight frown marred his otherwise handsome face as he considered the object clutched in a fist, safely hidden in his pocket.

_Congratulations, Castle._ He saw again, Kate Beckett's figure hurrying away, shoulders hunched in her distress. _Damn!_ How did this happen? All his careful restraint, nurtured over the last two years association with the hard-ass detective, and now this!

There was a hollow ache in his chest as he considered that night two weeks ago. She'd wanted to go through with it, he'd made sure of that. No pressure from him at all, only the slightest teasing. He'd been pleased she'd stayed for the movie, pleasantly surprised when she'd cuddled up to him a little later, and when she drifted into sleep, he smiled faintly, remembering the warm weight of her leaning against him. He'd spent more time watching her sleep than the movie. Fascinating woman.

Alexis, sharp girl that she is, noticed. He remembered the grin she'd given him just before scampering up the stairs. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. At least Kate had Alexis's approval. That was a first.

But did he have Kate's? He was never completely sure. Sometimes she'd tease him then shut him down. Sometimes, she'd catch him checking her out, and get this tiny smug smile as she turned away. He sighed. Frustrating woman.

His mind wandered back over the last two weeks. She'd been so hot and responsive in his arms and bed. But the next day? Something happened. He hoped it wasn't regrets. Considering today's events, it seemed inevitable. _Damn!_

The frown returned, as he remembered her cutting words and icy anger from earlier in the evening. Would she still be angry with him tomorrow? Would she want more space, time to mull things over? His frown deepened as he toyed with the pregnancy test in his pocket.

He hated missing even a day at her side. It wasn't just working the murder cases either. That was fun, but it was her quick dry wit, the sardonic edge. No, that wasn't it at all. It was that deep level of compassion he glimpsed when she spoke to the families of murder victims. Of course, it certainly didn't hurt that she was sexy as hell. He grinned, remembering the way she'd ripped Ryan a new one this morning, the way her jeans hugged her ass while she leaned over his desk.

Another long sigh. He dropped a dollar in the open case at a fiddler's feet. The man's joy in his music was infectious, and the lilting notes lightened the evening. But there was no lightening in Castle's thoughts.

Brooding, he remembered that night two weeks past when they'd thrown caution to the wind. The sex was everything he'd hoped it would be, for a first time. But there was so much more he wanted to explore of her body and responses, linger with her in bed and make her breakfast. Take her to dinner and the theatre, meet her dad. And maybe even… Castle shied away from that thought. It would be enough to be romantically involved with her.

A taxi pulled up to the street ahead of him. Castle's pace did not change as he watched a woman clamber out, reaching back for something. She set an infant carrier on the sidewalk and then paid the cabby.

His steps slowed as his eyes lingered on the tiny baby nestled inside the car seat. A pink cap covered the round head as she chewed on a fist. Three months or so, he judged by the way she looked around on her strong little neck.

Another baby. A multitude of mixed feelings clashed inside him, reluctance, and excitement being the dominant flavors. He wondered briefly what Alexis would think. She'd probably be thrilled to finally have a brother or sister on the way. And by the smile on her face when she'd scampered up the stairs that night, he had a pretty good idea that she'd approve of her sibling's mother.

This was his fleeting thought as a window display caught his eye. "Perfect," he whispered under his breath and entered the shop.

* * *

_It goes without saying how much writers enjoy reviews! :-D Thank you!_

_Namaste._


	6. The Assumption and I

**_The Ass-umption and I _**

**_CHAPTER SIX_**

"Hi Dad," Alexis gave her father a sunny smile as he walked in.

"What's that, Sweetie? Homework?" Rick Castle leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of Alexis's head, his usual smile in place.

"Yes. This week we are practicing the use of comparison and contrast in our writing." Castle took the chair next to Alexis, dropping a plastic shopping bag on the table. "Mrs. Belgard has us writing papers on," she paused for dramatic effect, "How-My-Mother-is-Different-From-My-Father." She gave an eye roll worthy of Katherine Beckett.

Castle blanched, "Oh! Well… Once Mrs. Belgard hands it back, you can keep it in that very special box for the most memorable treasures."

"What's that?"

"The round one." Castle nodded at the waste basket by the door.

"It's not that bad. Actually, compared to Mom, you sound like Mr. Cleaver."

"Mr. Cleaver? As in _Ward Cleaver_?" he cocked a brow and made a disparaging sound. "How about Tom Scavo, from Desperate Housewives? He's much sexier."

"I _was thinking_ Homer Simpson," Alexis dimpled sweetly at his outrage, then shrugged. "But you're much more handsome." Her eyes lit on the plastic shopping bag, "What's that?"

"This? Oh, just a little something I picked up for a friend," he changed the subject, "Is Gram cooking?" Castle got up and wandered into the kitchen.

"Yes. She was thinking about getting take out."

"Ah, Zarela's again." Castle opened the refrigerator, staring into its depths. "Perhaps she needs a new favorite restaurant."

"Could be worse." Alexis turned back to her paper while Castle fished out a can of whipped cream.

"Good evening, Darlings," Martha Rogers swept into the apartment, take out containers stacked inside shopping bags. "I've brought supper, but I'm going to have to eat and run. Chet is taking me to the theatre."

"What are we having tonight, Mother?"

"Zarela's."

"_Doh!"_ Castle winked at Alexis, who grinned, as Martha began unloading the takeout containers onto the table. "If I didn't know better, Mother, I'd think you had a thing for Mr. Zarela."

"Don't be ridiculous," Martha went to the cupboards for plates. "Mr. Zarela is in his seventies." She ignored Rick's eloquently arched brow, "However, his nephew has an adorable behind." She grinned conspiratorially at Alexis, who grinned and shook her head.

Castle nearly choked on a mouthful of whipped cream. "Muvver! Doeth Chet 'ave combetition?"

"No, but," Martha broke off as she hefted Castle's package. "Barnes & Noble. No need to ask who this belongs to."

"I'll take that." Castle crossed to the table, hand outstretched. Too late. Martha opened the bag and a thick paperback slid into her hand.

Martha frowned, staring at the book, "This is yours, Richard?" Alexis looked up from the other end of the table.

"Uh, well, actually, no. Not for me. Personally," Castle stumbled for an explanation as he took the book from her.

"Is this research for Nikki Heat?"

"Ah, no, not exactly."

"What is it Gram?"

"What to Expect When You're Expecting." Her voice was soft with concern and confusion.

Castle backed away, his eyes darting around the room as though looking for a place to hide the book. Two pairs of blue eyes followed his movement. "Who is that for, Dad?" Neither woman moved.

"What?"

"Don't play the fool, Richard. What are you doing with that book?"

"Oh, the book." The silence stretched out for what seemed like eons.

"You said it was for a friend."

"Yes, a friend is… expecting."

Martha wasn't letting it go. "Is this someone we—"

"Dad," Alexis interrupted, "Please tell me you're not _involved_ in this…"

Castle coughed uncomfortably. "Congratulations Alexis," he had trouble meeting her eyes, "You're finally going to be a big sister." Martha stared at her son, her brows raised.

Alexis covered her face with her hands, her tone was flat. "You're having a baby."

"Well, no. That would be a physical impossibility."

Her hands fell away and she glared at him, "Dad!"

"You're going to have a brother or sister," he confirmed.

"I can't believe this." She turned away, shaking her head.

"What? I thought you always wanted a sibling." He looked at her then, his voice soft.

"Dad!" Alexis gaped at her father in exasperation. It would be one thing if you were married or dating someone, but getting some _bimbo_ pregnant," Alexis shook her head, "I mean haven't you figured out how condoms work by now? It's embarrassing."

Rick's eyes widened, "Whoa, hang on! Is my little _condom baby_ lecturing _me_ on the pitfalls of condoms?_" _Alexis rolled her eyes. "Second, we aren't talking about some bimbo here. We're talking about Kate Beckett."

Her eyes widened, and she used a completely different tone of voice, "Detective _Beckett_?"

Martha found her voice, "You got _Kate_ pregnant?"

"Since when are you and Detective Beckett on a first name basis?"

Martha waved her hand dismissively. "Since when are you and Kate sleeping together?"

He ignored her question and turned back to Alexis, "Yes, Detective Beckett and I are expecting a baby."

Alexis made a very different sound, leaping up to hug her father. "I didn't know you were even dating."

"Neither did I," he admitted.

Alexis frowned in confusion. "You're not dating?" she pulled away to look up into his face.

"Not _yet."_ He pulled plates down from the cupboard and handed them to Alexis. "But, I think it's safe to say, our relationship is in a state of change. It's just a matter of time before we move into a more committed—er, _exclusive _relationship."

"Huh, So you think that because you created a life together all of a sudden she's going to want to date you?"

Rick frowned at his mother as she poured herself a glass of wine. He was about to respond when Alexis interrupted, "When is the baby due?"

"I don't know. We just found out today."

"Today?" she paused in her task of setting the plates out, "How long has she known?"

"About two hours," he pulled silverware out of the drawer and moved back to the table.

"Good Lord! I'm going to need something stronger than this."

"She didn't know?"

"She took a test at the precinct."

"You mean she _just_ found out?"

"Yes." Alexis and Martha stared at him. He looked from one to the other, "What?"

"How did she take it?" Martha asked.

Castle slid one of the takeout containers closer and peeked in. "She seemed a little upset, but once she gets used to the idea, I'm sure she'll be fine."

"Fine," Alexis repeated flatly, frowning.

Oblivious, Castle peered in a paper sack and pulled out some tortilla chips. Martha and Alexis exchanged glances.

"Richard, do you even know whether she wants to keep the baby or not?"

Castle's head snapped up in surprise, the corner of a chip hanging out of his mouth. "Keep—"

"Yes, as opposed to abortion or adoption." Martha leaned on one hip, wine glass balanced elegantly in a manicured hand.

Castle slowly straightened as he absorbed her words. "No, I just assumed—" his voice trailed off as he stared at her.

"And made an _ass_ of _u_ and _me_," Martha finished for him, turning away.

Alexis hovered with water glasses in hand, watching the emotions play across her father's face. Her light blue eyes were serious.

"Thank you, Mother," he finally muttered, staring at the open container of spinach enchiladas. Alexis set the drinks on the table.

"Don't mention it," Martha sipped her wine looking thoughtful.

"Dad?" Alexis's voice was soft as she placed a hand on his arm.

Martha turned to speak, but was brought up short by the look in his eyes. "Hey," he looked up at her. "It'll work out, Kiddo." Alexis nodded as Martha gave his middle a quick squeeze. "You'll see."

He gave his mother a sober nod, but hugged her back without speaking or smiling.

"Now I really do have to eat and run," Martha pulled away and began rapidly filling her plate. Rick didn't move.

"Let's eat, Dad."

He managed a smile for her, "Let's eat," he agreed.

* * *

_Mrs. Belgard was a very memorable high school English teacher, whom I fondly remember for her hippiesque views, and her memorable writing assignments, suchas the one she gave Alexis, (and myself) How-My-Mother-Is-Different-From-My-Father. I read my paper to an audience of both parents and they were each in turn incensed at my descriptions of themselves and smugly pleased at my characterizations of the other. How is that for a commentary on human nature?_

_Zarela's is an upscale New York City Mexican Restaurant. (Not an Arizonan transplant this time!)_


	7. The Elusive Detective Beckett

_*****UPDATE April 26, 2010: The new chapter 8 is coming soon! Hopefully by Friday! I'll repost the joke chapter when the story is completely finished as an alternate ending.**_

**

* * *

**

_**The Elusive Detective Beckett **_

_**CHAPTER SEVEN**_

_**Day 1:**__ 265 days to go. _

_**Waist size:**__ 24.5 inches __**Weight:**__ 129 pounds_

_**Mood:**__ Pensive_

_Today, a single cell organism was formed from the union of your ovum, or egg, and your partner's sperm. This beginning is called conception or fertilization. It actually takes the sperm several hours to reach the egg. _

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p 9_

_

* * *

_

_**Tough Nut**_

Kate must have lain beside him for an hour, trying to reconcile her thoughts with what'd happened between them. Her eyes were closed and she could feel his deep, even breaths caressing the back of her neck, his naked body secured to hers with a strong arm around her waist. She might have enjoyed his warm comfort except part of her stayed detached.

In the last year and a half, Kate had been tempted to sleep with Castle before. The night after she'd shot her mother's killer, she'd almost invited him over with exactly this comfort in mind. She'd hesitated with his number selected, her thumb hovering over the call button. Only, she'd promised herself she wouldn't ever….

A man like Castle, the twice-divorced, albeit most eligible bachelor, the _hottie_ magnet, all the toys in the world to entertain himself—not exactly material for a stable relationship. And at thirty-two, she wasn't getting any younger. Fun, he would definitely provide, but till death do us part? Kate Beckett wasn't holding her breath.

She frowned at the dark room. How did she manage to get into this mess? The sex was bound to affect their relationship. She worried over the easy banter they enjoyed up till now. Their partnership, which was so effective at catching killers, would it be jeopardized?

Maybe with the sex over and done, it'd be easier to work with him. Maybe she'd be out of his system and they could focus on catching killers. She ignored an involuntary clenching in her belly at the thought. Maybe he'd move on now that he'd had her… There was a tightening in her throat.

She pushed aside the memory of another night, another lover, gone with the morning light. _"Cast off,"_ she murmured, remembering. Would he wake up with a phony politeness and a fake laugh as he wondered how to get rid of her?

She wouldn't stick around to find out. Gently lifting his arm, she eased away, careful to disturb him as little as possible. Her toes dug into the thick nap of the carpet as she replaced the covers.

The faint glow from a window cast a lighter shadow across the room. His face, softer now, and unguarded, showed more of the boyish handsomeness, and less of the rogue. She hesitated for a moment, staring at him. Resolutely, she turned away, gathering up her jeans, stockings, bra…

Where were her panties? She remembered Castle sliding them off her. Did he throw them in a corner? Underneath the bed skirt? She searched through the room frantically, then hesitated, naked with her bundle of clothing. She bit her lip frowning at Castle who looked far too innocent in his sleep.

No doubt her panties were burrowed deep under the designer comforter. She wasn't going to risk waking him by searching. She pulled her jeans on over her bare bottom. Castle could keep them as a souvenir, she supposed. He'd probably like that. She was just thankful they were one of her sexier pairs.

Dressed in her bra and jeans, Kate turned the doorknob with exquisite care, holding it open as she slipped out of his bedroom. The loft was dark, the television still glowing blue. She punched it off and headed for a smallish lump beside the couch, stumbling over her shoe before she reached her blouse. A moment later, she was fully dressed and sliding her shoes back onto her feet.

Grabbing her jacket, she almost made it to the door. She paused, her hand hovering above the deadbolt, biting her lip. Should she leave a note? What would she say? C_astle, Let's just pretend last night never happened… See you at the precinct tomorrow—_

No, it would be better to look him in the eye and… her stomach pulled into a knot. She leaned her forehead against the door with her eyes closed. She had no idea what to say to him. Her jaw set, she pulled the door open and, checking that the knob was locked, shut it behind her.

* * *

_**Day 2:**__ 264 days to go. _

_The first cell division takes place today. A two-sided ball is formed from the single cell created by your ovum and your partner's sperm. Early Pregnancy Factor (EPF), an immunosuppressant protein, is first manufactured now. Without EPF, your body might mistake the developing baby for a foreign body (like a bacterium or a virus) and attack it. _

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p 9_

_

* * *

_

_**Ready or Not…**_

Rick Castle stretched languidly, his toes curling under and his arms reaching in the cool, empty satin sheets. Catching an elusive scent, he opened his eyes and leaned on an elbow, his eyes darting eagerly around what he could see of the room.

"Beckett?"

The only reply was the tick of the clock on his wall and the muted sounds of traffic outside. Kicking the covers aside, he prowled naked through his suite.

"Kate?" his voice was hesitant, he stepped to the window alcove where bookshelves and an empty arm chair waited under a haphazard Snugglie. The bathroom was similarly empty, the sink and shower testifying to their long disuse.

He frowned and grabbed his robe. Alexis and Martha chatted away in the kitchen as he made a slow circuit of the living area, eyes checking the surfaces for something not to be found. He paused in the doorway to his office. The laptop was closed, the shining mahogany as bare as when he'd left it days ago. He stared around him again, checking the floor for a slip of paper that wasn't there.

"Dad, I have a National Honor Society meeting tonight. Do you want to meet me for dinner somewhere?"

"Huh?" Alexis repeated the question. "Oh," He scanned the granite counters en route to the cupboard. "Isn't it my night to cook?"

"Yes, but since I—"

"I'll cook dinner for you, Alexis." He popped an English Muffin in the toaster.

"Dad, my meeting is at seven, and I know how hard it is to get away when there's an open case."

"You're right." He stared at the gleaming toaster. A secretive smile stole over his face, "I'll invite Detective Beckett to join us." There was a curious note of anticipation in his voice. "She has to eat sometime." _Why not with us?_ "What time is your meeting?"

Alexis gave him an odd look, "7:00. Can we eat by 5:30?

"Sure."

"Enough of this logistical mumbo jumbo," Martha interrupted, "I hear you and Detective Beckett got a little cozy during the movie last night."

"You heard that?" a glance at Alexis's guilty face revealed an apologetic smile.

"I hear she snuggled right up and fell asleep on your shoulder."

"Sorry Dad. When Gram found out Detective Beckett spent the evening with us, I got the third degree."

"Yes, and what I want to know is, what happened once Alexis went to bed?"

There was a clatter as Alexis dropped her spoon into her bowl and plugged her ears, muttering under her breath. Martha eyed him over the top of her coffee cup.

Rick sighed, "Detective Beckett is a tough nut to crack."

"She is that," Martha agreed, setting her glass down. "Good luck getting her back over here tonight." Martha reached for the newspaper and Alexis tentatively pulled one finger out of her ear.

"What do you mean?"

Martha shrugged as she flipped through the morning Ledger, looking for the theater section. "She's a tough, independent woman. If you didn't get anywhere last night, she'll probably have her guard up today."

Castle frowned as he popped his muffin out of the toaster with his fingertips, saying nothing.

* * *

_**Hide and Seek**_

It wasn't immediately obvious that Kate wanted to avoid him.

He showed up, as usual, a latte in each hand and a breakfast bag under one arm. Esposito's desk phone was glued to his ear, but he gave Castle a half wave, Ryan didn't notice his arrival as he poured over mind-numbing information on Vi-Cap.

_She_ didn't look up from the murder board as Castle put one of the paper cups in her hand. She immediately wrapped ten fingers around the hot drink, murmuring her thanks. He waited, intent on catching her gaze so he could whisper _Good morning_ to her, as he'd wanted to this morning, only without the kiss he'd intended.

She didn't look up.

She sipped her latte, transferring it to her left hand and leaning forward to rearrange the person-of-interest photos.

She took another sip, all without a glance at Castle. A small line appeared between his brows. He waited, watching her work the board, noticing the shaky hand that brushed her long bangs off her forehead.

He tried again, "Bear claw?" he murmured, his voice a soft, sexy rumble. The pastry bag crinkled invitingly as he proffered it.

"I—" she hesitated for a second, capping the marker, she reached for the bag. It flicked further away. Involuntarily her eyes met his for half a second. The corner of his mouth teased upward but she'd already turned away, and completely missed the confusion in his gaze.

"No, thanks," she muttered grimly. Then, "Esposito, any word on the forensics for the Yencopal murder?" Turning her back on Castle, she again missed his confusion before his expression went carefully blank.

Esposito shook his head, "Forensics is short-staffed and they say it'll be at least 24 hours before we get the results back."

"Damn." Beckett frowned, her brow knotted as she considered her options. "Alright, Esposito and Ryan, I want you to return to the crime scene and canvass the area. See if anyone recognizes Molina's picture."

"On it," Esposito was on his feet, pulling on his sports coat. Ryan thrust one arm through his jacket as with the other hand; he printed extra photos of their suspect. They would be gone in a moment.

She turned around to find Rick watching her. "Uh, Castle," The slight frown marring his forehead melted away as she finally faced him. She stepped closer. Her dark green eyes meeting his for a moment before flicking away. "Would you—" her teeth caught at her lower lip for a second then, "I want you to go help Ryan and Esposito with the canvass." Her eyes met his before she turned away again.

His eyes widened with disbelief, "Wha-? I—Bu, But," he followed her to her desk. "What are _you_ doing?"

"The uniforms are bringing Molina in for interrogation." She picked up a couple of files, glancing inside. She pushed her hair away from her face, her mouth was a tight line.

"Don't you—I mean," Rick licked his lips, leaning forward and pitched his voice low, but she could hear the hesitation, "Don't you want my help with the interrogation?"

It wasn't what he said, but how he said it. Kate's lips parted as she slowly lifted her face to meet his eyes for a long moment. "I need some space," she whispered. She didn't seem to realize how she clutched the files to her.

For the space of several heartbeats, he stared into her eyes. Eventually, he nodded. "Alright." Castle's arms hung uselessly at his side. She turned back to her desk, setting the crumpled files down again. "If that's the way you want it…" he stared at the top of her head, her rich dark hair falling forward to hide her face.

She nodded, then hearing his footsteps as he walked away, she closed her eyes, willing her heart to slow.

"What's up, Castle?" Ryan pulled the stack of photos off the printer.

"Nothing. I'm coming with you."

"Why?" Castle shrugged and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. His face provided all the explanation needed.

Esposito looked from Castle to Beckett and back again. "Whadja do?" he grinned, "Mess with her chair again?"

* * *

**_Deep Breath_**

Rick kissed Alexis good night early, and poured himself a stiff drink, carrying it to his room. Movie night plus nocturnal activities took their toll, and the disappointment of Beckett's rejection didn't help matters any.

Women loved him, and he loved them in turn. He never had trouble getting a woman into bed, or back in bed, as the case may be. Usually, _he _was the one to sneak out of a dark and silent apartment without leaving a note or number. When he stayed in touch, she was usually happy to decorate his arm at some event or later date. And if not, well, easy come easy go.

Not for the first time, he pondered the irony of Katherine Beckett's singular resistance to his charm.

He sipped his drink and idly unbuttoned his shirt as he meandered through his suite, brooding over a certain pair of green eyes. He contemplated starting the advanced copy of Stephen Cannell's new novel, which he'd been asked to review. He was headed to his easy chair to do just that when something else caught his eye.

Galya had come today, as she did twice a week. She cleaned, restocked supplies, prepared a meal to be cooked later, and dropped off their laundry. She also changed the sheets.

He strolled over to the bed, looking down at the tiny object sitting on it. He took another sip, a smile burgeoning across his features. Reaching down with two fingers, he unfolded the scrap of black fabric, spreading it across the comforter.

Beckett had left him a souvenir.

He smoothed the panties with the back of his fingers, savoring their texture, remembering the way they'd fit her, how she'd lifted her hips as he'd pulled them off. He could just picture her searching, bare ass in the air as she checked under the bed. It must irritate her no end knowing they were still in his possession. He barely tasted the whiskey, hardly feeling its burn down his throat so engrossed was he by the bit of black lace.

"_The possibilities…"_

Some men might feel obligated to return a lover's panties, Rick's finger traced the delicate hem to where he knew her scent would be strongest. He felt no such compunction. He'd acquired souvenirs before, sometimes panties, sometimes a negligee or even a delicate scarf. But each time as his interest in the woman waned so had the trophy's allure.

They were gone now, all the trophy's and reminders of Kate's predecessors in his bed. All that remained were an occasional photo or newspaper clipping stuffed in a folder or drawer somewhere; most of these were rendered unnecessary by the staff of his very competent publicist.

Except for his ex-wives of course. He stored mementos of Meredith for Alexis' sake. And he was obligated to keep the divorce papers for several years yet. (Somehow that was the only memento of Gina worth keeping.) But it startled him to realize the trophies were gone. How long had it been since he'd found another woman as captivating as Katherine Becket? Had there _ever_ been another?

He gathered the panties with both hands, watching how the silken threads shone in the light. Is that what these panties were? A trophy? Was Kate Beckett ultimately a conquest? His eyes drifted closed as he held the item to his face, breathing in her most intimate musk. His heart surged and his physiology leapt into gear. He tried to imagine walking away from her at this point, letting her go if that was her wish. Something distinctly male and possessive reared its head. There would be no walking away from this woman. Again, he held the panties to his face, sliding the nubby texture over his stubbly cheek as he breathed in her scent a second time.

Rick would not be returning the panties. They weren't a trophy exactly, more than a souvenir… a treasure? He shied away from the word.

Whatever they were, he needed a special place to keep them. He glanced around, some place he could reach from his bed. He pulled open the drawer of his night stand. A small chest was nestled between a box of condoms and various oils and other objects needed, on occasion, by a healthy and single adult male. He cracked the lid of the chest. A half dozen mementos stared up at him: an orange and blue pin reminded him of his status as the World's Greatest Dad, dried flowers picked in Riverside Park on a summer day... He slid them over to create space for Beckett's panties. He gazed at them for a moment, nestled in the little chest. Once more he picked them up and smelled her femaleness.

One night would never be enough. Tenderly, he tucked it away closing the lid and drawer.

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: _

_A reliable source assures me, any guy would take a whiff. Sorry if that wasn't your thing._

_Hopefully, we won't have such a long break between updates again, however, it looks like we'll be moving in May, so I apologize in advance for what is bound to happen again. These characters belong to ABC and not me. _

_You will review won't you? __ I love feedback._

_

* * *

_

_*****UPDATE April 26, 2010: The new chapter 8 is coming soon! Hopefully by Friday! I'll repost the joke chapter when the story is completely finished as an alternate ending.**_


	8. Divisions

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hopefully, we won't have such a long break between updates again, however, it looks like we'll be moving in May, so I apologize in advance for what is bound to happen again. __The joke/alternate ending will eventually be published as an appendix. (For newcomers, that is the original document published as Chapter 8.) _

_Please note The Pregnancy Journal numbers each day of the pregnancy and helps the reader observe the passage of time. Chapters 1-6 took place on Day 14, and Chapter 7 on Day 1-2. Chapter 8 takes place on Day 3 and chapter 9 on Day 13. That's about as clear as I can make it. _

___These characters belong to ABC and not me._  


_

* * *

_

_**Divisions **_

_**CHAPTER EIGHT**_

_**Day3:**__ 263 days to go. _

_In the last twenty-four hours, the two identical cells have undergone three to four additional cell divisions. Two cells become four, four cells become eight, and eight cells become sixteen in a tightly packed, solid-ball configuration. __Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p 10_

* * *

Detective Kate Beckett scowled at the murder board before she turned back to her two junior detectives. "You're telling me that _no one_ saw Molina anywhere near the crime scene?"

"Nada."

"Zilch."

Rick Castle remained uncharacteristically quiet as the four of them studied the murder board. "Could he have used a disguise?" he ventured to guess.

Beckett shrugged. "I suppose we could canvass the local costume shops…" she began then couldn't help a smile on seeing Castle's reaction. She shook her head. "No, Castle, not you, the _uniforms_."

Castle's shoulders slumped and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Beckett returned her attention to the murder board and she frowned at the eight by ten glossy of Joseph Molina under the _suspect_ heading. "His alibi checks out, but it's a bit thin." She shook her head again. "He gave me nothing in interrogation. If forensics doesn't give me something I'll have to cut him loose." She pushed a strand of hair behind an ear and turned to Esposito, but he was already picking up his desk phone.

"I'll check the status with forensics."

In seconds Detective Esposito, leaned against his desk, waiting for someone at the lab to pick up his call. The phone rang on the other end repeatedly. Grunting with disgust, he pushed the receiver down when he reached voicemail, and hit redial. _Pick up, pick up!_ Again, the repeated buzzing in his ear, followed by a high pitched beep. "_You have reached the Forensic Biology Department at…"_ Esposito clicked the phone off with a jerk of his hand, frustration evident in his stance, feet spread apart, arms tense, ready for action; but not voicemail.

Frowning, he glanced over to where his colleagues gathered around the murder board. Castle gestured with a dry-erase marker, then stepped over to peer at an open file in Beckett's hand, his own resting at the small of her back.

_Huh. That's interesting._ Beckett, seemingly unaware of the contact, continued to speak as she flipped pages. Detective Ryan, writing on the murder board, was oblivious. Beckett looked up and found Castle too close. For a second the pair were motionless.

A slow grin spread across Esposito's face as he watched his boss pull away, but not before his sharp eyes caught the confused longing, quickly masked, in Castle's face, and the hesitation in Beckett's stance. Still smiling to himself, he punched the speed dial on his desk phone again. Someone had to pick up eventually.

* * *

"If Yencopal was involved in the distribution of the Millard's estate, it's entirely likely Molina had nothing to do with his death." Beckett's keen mind tripped along, still focused on the case. Sometimes it took a semi-truck to get her to change gears when she was in murder-solving mode. "I don't know how I missed this."

Castle shrugged as he looked over the selection of available mugs and chose one with an NYPD badge on the side. "Nobody's infallible and Molina definitely had motive, if not opportunity." He hesitated, watching her empty the grounds from the espresso machine. "How much space do you want, exactly?" His voice was low, but carried more feeling than he knew. Not daring to meet her eyes, he took the filter from her and repacked it with fresh espresso grounds.

Her eyes were wide as she shot a peek at him. "I don't know." There was a heavy silence as she fiddled with her favorite green mug.

Castle took it from her, filling it with steaming fragrant espresso. He tried again. "Do you want a few days solving murders without me around or just a few days where we pretend nothing happened?"

"The latter would be lovely." She was suddenly in a hurry, dumping a careless dollop of sugar-free vanilla syrup into her cup and grabbed a spoon.

A hand on her arm stopped her from hurrying away. She did not resist as he turned her to face him. His voice was grim. "When can I take you out?"

Her eyes widened and she actually took a step back, "What makes you think I—" she swallowed, "want to go out with you?"

His direct gaze trapped her, as did his quiet reply, "Just the fact that you're not a one night stand kind of girl." At least, he hoped she wasn't.

Beckett's mouth worked but nothing came out. She stared at him. He stared back. Finally, she pushed a hand through her hair and left the break room, muttering under her breath as he followed her down the hall. "This is exactly why I didn't want to get involved in the first place. It's getting in the way of solving murders."

"You don't really mean that." Castle was close on her heels, sucking on a knuckle where his coffee splashed over the edge of his cup.

"Don't I?" She stopped and faced him, daring him to refute her claim.

"No, you don't." he neither backed down nor flinched. He lowered his voice. "Because that is exactly what Nikki Heat would say and as you are so fond of reminding the world, Nikki Heat is a _fictional_ character."

"Based on _me_," Beckett snapped. They scowled at each other in silence, oblivious to the curious glances from the uniforms passing them in the hall.

"Fine. We _pretend_ nothing happened." He hesitated, staring at her, his lips parted as though he wanted to say more.

She didn't give him the opening, "Fine." She nodded and preceded him into the bullpen, coffee in hand.

* * *

_You may proceed to Chapter Nine... Panty Play!_


	9. Panty Play

_As always, these characters belong to ABC._

_

* * *

_

_**Panty Play**_

_**CHAPTER NINE**_

_**Day 13:**__ 253 days to go. _

_If you need to settle your stomach, snack on dry crackers, toast, peppermints, or high-carbohydrate foods (like baked potatoes, vegetables, cereals, whole-grain breads, and dried beans and peas). Drink plenty of liquid. Avoid medication and food odors that make you feel queasy. __Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p 14_

_

* * *

_

"So what's up with you and Castle?"

Beckett's head snapped up, "_Excuse_ me?"

Javier Esposito gave her a sly grin. _Yeah, I'm on to you, BossLady._ "He's acting more obsessed than usual."

"Really? Obsessed? How so?" Beckett gave a little frown with her brow.

He glanced over to where Castle rummaged around the break room cupboard, searching for his preferred brand of coffee. "He's always been a little nuts where you're concerned, but he never used to track you."

"_What?" _

"He plays it pretty cool, not so that most people would notice, but he watches you." He leaned a little closer. "It's like you're a fascinating blip on his radar."

"Oh," Beckett turned away, fumbling through a drawer, desperately trying not to hang on his every word. "He always watches me." She gave a half shrug, trying to sound bored. "Nothing new. Tic Tac?"

"Sure." Esposito popped the tiny candy into his mouth, "The funny thing is you're riding him harder than usual… so to speak." He wandered back to his desk and half fell into the chair, watching Beckett with half a grin. It was maddening.

Beckett turned her back on him, reaching for another report. Why was she eternally surrounded by smug men? She bit her lip to keep from pumping him for more information.

The report was upside down. She scowled. She didn't want to show him how rattled she was by turning it around. She stared at the pages. She tried reading it upside down. _This is ridiculous. I should just turn it—Is Esposito still watching me? _She didn't want to turn it if he's watching….

"Need a mirror?"

"What?" She flinched and looked up at Castle holding two mugs of coffee and peering over her shoulder. He set hers on the desktop.

His voice was smooth… and smug. "You might want to practice reading backward when you're through reading upside down." There was an amused gleam in his eye as he turned the folder in Beckett's hands.

"Thanks." Voices behind her were testimony that Esposito's attention was elsewhere. Some of the tension eased out of her shoulders.

"No problem." Still smirking, Castle reclaimed his seat. "What time are we due at the courthouse?" He sipped his coffee.

Beckett checked her watch. "It's time to go." She picked up her coffee cup. Her eyelids drooped as she leaned over to breathe in the aroma. Frowning slightly, she set the cup down, untouched. "Have you testified in court before?" She closed her file and straightened her desktop.

"You mean for a criminal trial? Sure. But that was _divorce_ court." He gave her a wry grin. He set his cup down. "I should have used disposable cups."

"No worries." Beckett thrust an arm through her leather jacket, pulling it on. "I'm not in the mood for coffee anyway."

"How about lunch afterwards? My treat."

"You got it last time. It's my turn." Beckett pulled open her bottom drawer and was reaching for her purse, when something else caught her eye. "What's this?" A tiny gift bag was tucked into her drawer, behind her carryall. Pulling it out by the white ribbon handle, she noted the stylized L P against a black background. Her brows lifted in surprise at the vaguely familiar logo as she set the gift sack on the desk in front of her. She sent Castle a curious look. "Do you—" but it was all over his face. "Castle?" her green eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"I—uh," Castle sat up a little straighter and glanced uncomfortably around the room, One hand smoothed his shirt front. "I thought you might be missing something."

Beckett reached in the narrow bag and discarded the tissue. She tipped the bag toward her, peeking at the contents.

"Perhaps this isn't the time or place to—"

Too late, she dipped her fingers in to snag the tiny item. It was halfway out the bag when she gasped and dropped the scrap of fabric back into the dark and private recesses. She impaled him with a furious glare. "Castle!" she hissed, "What in the hell were you thinking!"

"You-You left yours—"

"Hsssst!" the sharp sound cut him off. Beckett's jaw was set as she rose, grabbed the bag, and her purse. "Come with me." It was not a request.

Castle rose and followed her to the elevator. He dared glance at her from the corner of his eye as she frowned at the indicator light. Her expression was not encouraging. He sighed.

The doors opened, and Beckett stepped inside. A glance indicated he should follow her. She punched the garage level and rounded on him as soon as the doors closed. "You have ten seconds to explain yourself."

"You—you left something in my—at my home." Intimidated by her anger, he backed up a step. "I only wanted to _replace _them."

"_What_ did I leave?"

One side of his mouth tipped upwards, "A _very sexy_ pair of black panties."

Her mouth was a tight line as she thrust the gift bag into his chest, "These aren't them."

His arms twitched but he did not take the bag from her. "I know that."

"Where are they?" She stubbornly waited for him to take the bag.

That smile again, a sexy arched brow, but he refused to answer.

"Castle—" There was a warning in her tone.

"Those are for you."

She spoke slowly, pronouncing each syllable with crystal clarity. "Take them back."

"Sure." His eyes half closed as he looked down at her and purred, "If you wear them first."

Outraged, the gift bag fell to her side and she stared at him, open mouthed. He quirked a brow and grinned, his eyes roamed downward, as though he were imagining her in the panties and _nothing_ else. His smile grew broader.

Kate could feel her face growing hot and she took an involuntary step back. She was never so happy to hear her phone ring.

"What?" she turned away from Castle, facing the doors as she listened. "Fine, we'll meet you there. What's the address?" She jotted something in her notebook and clicked the phone off. Still fuming, she stared at the doors.

He waited for her to fill him in. She didn't. He couldn't stand it. "Is it a body?"

Beckett pulled her phone back out and began a text. Castle leaned closer trying to see to whom it was addressed, but she pulled away.

"It's a body isn't it?" The doors slid open and she preceded him into the garage, but not before he glimpsed a slight tilt to the corner of her mouth. Castle was right at her heels like an excited puppy.

She turned her head to look at him at last. She shook her head, charmed in spite of her anger. It's a body," she confirmed.

"_Yes!"_ Castle fist pumped the air, "Can I run the police lights?"

Beckett whirled around and jabbed him in the chest with her index finger. "Just so you know; we are not through discussing this, _Kitten!_" His eyes widened and he hesitated, watching her walk toward the car. A bemused smile was on his lips as he slid into the Crown Vic beside her.

Bags locked away in the trunk, Beckett started the engine. She paused, her hand on the gear shift and she turned to Castle with a calculating look in her eye. "I'll offer you a trade, Castle." She had his full attention. Leaving the car in park, she leaned toward him, her voice persuasive. "You return _my _panties and I will _forget_ you ever had an _adorable_ nickname like _'Kitten'_."

He leaned closer in the dimness of the underground parking garage. "If you get your panties back, I have nothing," he murmured. His voice was inviting and husky. "At least this way, I have a souvenir _and_ the _pleasure _of being _your__ Kitten_." Laughter was clearly visible on his face.

* * *

_Next chapter? Day 15! What do Castle & Beckett _really _have to say to each other after the day _after_ the pregnancy test? _


	10. Skirting the Issue

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**_Skirting the Issue_**

_**CHAPTER TEN**_

_****__**Day 15:**__ 251 days to go._  


_It is now possible to identify the head and tail sections of the baby's body._

_**Mood: **__irritable_

_**Energy:**_

_**Appetite:**_

_**Morning Sickness:**__ feel nauseous at the smell of coffee and scented candles_

_**Cravings:**__ Caffeine!_

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p15_

_

* * *

_

Richard Castle had been many things to a lot of women, most often _lover_, occasionally _friend_ or otherwise _playmate_. Most recently, he dared to add partner to his repertoire but there was no label he loved half so well as _son_ and most especially, _father_.

It was this last he brooded over as he waited in line at Starbucks, watching business men in power ties and women in power suits mingle amongst the grungier artist and student types; each seeking their morning's dose of legal, addictive stimulants_._

"Two veinte green teas," he murmured to the cashier when his turn came.

_Father._ All those years ago, the title had seemed the equal of a ball and chain, a disaster of epic proportions. But the first time the tiny pink fingers curled around his, and the wobbly head turned toward his voice, he knew parenthood would be the greatest adventure life brought him.

All these years later, his lips curved in a smile of wonder as he considered his daughter. Alexis was the light of his life. _Hmmm,_ _cliché_. The sauce on his enchilada, the hot fudge on his ice cream… Smiling faintly, he collected the steaming teas from the attendant and dropped some sugar packets in his pocket, strolling out the door. Pages in his book… _nice_!

Kate. It was her first time through the roller coaster of parenthood. Naturally, she might be looking for an undo button. Waiting at the crosswalk, he pursed his lips. But once she got passed the initial shock, he smiled to himself, Kate would be a great mom. Firm when necessary, but she knew how to have fun too, and based on the compassion she routinely showed the victim's family? She'd be loving as well.

"Morning, Castle." the uniform on duty in the foyer of the 12th precinct greeted him with a smile.

"Hey, Rodriguez."

"When's the next Nikki Heat due out?"

Castle smiled wryly at the man's persistence but didn't stop to chat. "Same answer as last week. I wish I knew." He turned and walked backward for a few paces, still heading to the elevator. "How was Jorge's game?"

"He won 7-3. He says you owe him an ice cream for not showing."

"Tell him if he wins again Tuesday, he's on." Castle turned in time to glimpse the elevator opening. A mish-mash of uniforms and plain clothes detective got off and Castle joined the queue of people trying to squeeze in.

The trick was, he reflected, to help Kate see the benefits of the situation—and to keep her from panicking.

"Good morning, Detective Ryan." Castle breezed into the bullpen moments later, setting one of the teas on Beckett's desk. He glanced around for her, noticing Esposito in Montgomery's office.

"Hey Castle." Ryan stood up to greet him, pulling his jacket off the back of his chair as he did so. "Didn't expect to see you here. Beckett didn't call you?"

"No," Castle straightened and gave Ryan his full attention, his eyes wide with surprise. "Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing major." Ryan shrugged. "Called in sick."

"Sick?" Castle repeated, his brow furrowed, "She never calls in sick."

"Yeah, I know. Last year she—"

"Did you talk to her?"

"No, Montgomery did." Ryan shrugged. "He told her not to come in till she got rid of it." He began pulling his jacket on, "Got a tip off the—" His voice trailed off as Castle choked on a mouthful of tea, somehow managing to swallow most of it rather than spew all of it on Ryan's shoes.

"Get rid of it?" He was not able to completely hide his horror at Ryan's choice of words.

Ryan, who'd stepped back at the first sign of choking, looked from the splatter on the floor to Castle with a complicated look, "Yeah, you know, feeling better, not contagious… Otherwise, she'd be back here in—" He shrugged again.

"Oh, right." Castle forced a weak smile and nodded vaguely. He glanced around the bullpen. Suddenly, it was not the place he wanted to be. "Listen, uh, I'm going to check on Beckett, see if she needs any, uh, soup or anything." He was already backing toward the door. "I'll catch up with you this afternoon."

"Sure. See y—" But Castle was through the door and at the elevator. Ryan frowned, watching him disappear inside the doors as Esposito left Montgomery's office.

"Montgomery's gonna send CSU to check out that rental van." Esposito frowned at his partner. "What's with you?"

"Oh, nothing. Castle was just leaving."

"Castle was here?" He looked around for him, belatedly noting the identical Starbuck's cups on Beckett's desk.

"Yeah." Ryan surveyed the spatter and headed to the break room for paper towels. "He was acting kind of strange."

Esposito grinned as he proceeded back to his desk. "You just _now_ noticing that, Bro?"

* * *

Katherine Beckett's lips were compressed in a tight line as she flashed her badge at the uniform on duty. Normally, she'd be good for a smile and a greeting. But today, there were tight lines drawn around her eyes and the usually brisk pace was a little more sedate. She nodded at Rodriguez, wincing slightly as she turned toward the elevator.

Easing into an advantageous position near the doors, she closed her eyes as she waited, rubbing her temples. The elevator chimed and she opened her eyes to see Castle, his attention and both hands fixed on his phone as he stepped off the lift, making a sharp turn and jostling her as he went by.

"Sorry," he muttered over his shoulder, not even seeing her.

Beckett was unable to move for a moment, she just stood there, both hands pressing against her forehead, grimacing in pain. A moment later, she dropped her hands and stared after him.

"Castle!" she snapped, her voice carrying clearly through the marbled interior.

He spun on his heel, staring at her in stunned surprise. She glared back at him, clearly irritable. "What the hell—" But he was already striding toward her, phone forgotten in his hand. It took him but a second to reach her, and when he did, he pulled her into a rough hug.

Beckett gasped into his cashmere jacket, overwhelmed by pain and the spicy scent of his aftershave. The sudden movement was too much for her and her forehead dropped to his shoulder for an instant, while she bit her lip, _hard. _Her eyes were clenched shut. When she pushed him away a second later, he was startled to see her face was white and taut and both palms pressed to her forehead.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" She cracked one eye to glare at him. "I have a caffeine headache. What the hell do you think is wrong?"

Castle's lips formed a silent "O" in understanding. "Damn, I brought you a…"

"What's with you?"

"Me?"

"First you run me over, then you hug me. What's gotten into you?" She punched the elevator "up" button, fingertips kneading her forehead.

Castle jammed both hands into his pants pockets, staring at a fixed point somewhere over her shoulder. The line between his brow deepened, and others formed as he turned his back on the people gathering around the elevator. "You called in sick." He frowned at the seam of the elevator doors.

"So?" Her hands fell away and she leveled a penetrating stare at him.

He swallowed, his voice growing fainter. "Ryan said…." He hesitated, the furrows deepening as he stared resolutely at the emergency exit diagram hanging above the elevator buttons. He soldiered on, "Ryan said you were _getting rid of it._" His voice trailed off, and he rubbed his chin, still not daring to look at her.

Beckett's eyes widened as she took his meaning. "Oh." She bit her lip, and looked around the room, blinking rapidly. She peeked at him. His face was set in an unnaturally grim expression, an unusual flush darkened his face, and his eyes… She suddenly didn't know what to say or where to look. The doors opened again but neither one moved. "Let's take a walk."

He nodded without speaking.

They hesitated on the sidewalk in front of the precinct, uncertain which way to go when no particular destination was required.

"There's a drugstore this way. Let's do something about that headache." She fell into step beside Castle.

"Can I even take anything for it? I mean, with the…" her voice trailed off and she bit her lip.

"Tylenol should be safe."

Ten minutes later, with a SOBE green tea apiece and a marginally more cheerful Beckett, they once again wandered the street. They walked in silence for a time, meandering passed street vendors and restaurants opening for the early lunch crowd. Each were lost in their own thoughts; pondering this uncertain new phase of their relationship.

"So you called in sick because of the headache?"

Beckett shook her head. "No, I was at my doctor's." Castle gave her a sharp look and she sighed. "I was getting a blood test."

"Ah." He nodded. Of course she would want to confirm her pregnancy. "And?"

"And… there's nothing to tell." She shrugged, staring down the street. "They'll call me with the results in a day or two." She frowned. I won't know for sure until Monday."

He nodded again, strangely quiet. They walked on, the trendy shops and cafes giving way to night clubs and cheap hotels. An awkward silence stretched between them which neither wanted to break. Beckett sneaked a questioning look at his profile when she thought he wasn't looking. As she scanned the street ahead, his eyes watched her; observing how the lines of her face were easing now that the Tylenol had time to work.

She was scanning a clump of pedestrians waiting at a corner when he finally managed to ask the question that had eaten away at his sense of peace since his conversation with Detective Ryan—no, since his mother laid out the full scope of options available the night before.

"Are you thinking of… I mean," Castle swallowed, struggling to find the right words, his voice faltering, "Are you going to have the baby?"

Beckett didn't answer immediately, but drank from her tea, and screwed the cap on. "I would have thought you'd want to avoid more children." Her voice was quiet. She didn't look at him.

"I do, but…" He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and faced her. "Look, I'm careful, but—" he spread his hands helplessly, his brow furrowed and there was no artifice or persuasion in his voice; only honesty. "In my life, there is no one I treasure more than Alexis. She _changed_ me…, and I—" He licked his lips. "I just don't want to see you _end_ something without thinking it through." His voice was low and hesitant. His hands dropped to his sides.

They stared at each other for a moment. The light at the nearby intersection turned green and suddenly a horde of people were surrounding them. Beckett bit her lip, then spoke, her voice low, vulnerable. "I always wanted to be a mom." She turned away, swiping at her cheek. He fell in step beside her, pretending not to see. He gave her a sideways glance as she continued a moment later, her voice stronger. "I just never thought it'd be like _this!_ Unplanned. Awkward—"

"—and with a World Famous Mystery Novelist." Castle gave a mock shudder and Beckett couldn't help a chuckle.

"Never that!" she agreed.

Castle was smiling at his small success when his phone rang. "It's Esposito." He told her, putting the phone to his ear. "Castle." He listened intently. Beckett leaned in trying to hear and he angled the phone to share the call. "Really? Yeah, I want in. Be right there." He clicked his phone off, his eyes alight with excitement. "The boys caught a break. You coming?"

"Duh." They turned as one and headed toward the precinct. "Why did Esposito call _you?" _

He added a bit of a macho drawl to his voice, "It's a _man_ thing." He could almost feel her eyes roll. "Anyway, you're _supposed _to be on sick leave."

She made a face, "I'm sure I'm going to get all sorts of grief for coming in.

"You could tell them it was the miraculous healing properties of my presence…" he grinned at her, dropping his empty tea bottle in a convenient recycle bin.

Her lips twitched but she pretended to be unaffected by his charm. "Or more likely, my sheer desperation to _escape_."

"Maybe it was the _magic_ of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup." His eyes twinkled at her, lowering his voice suggestively, "No one heats it up like I do…"

They were nearly to the precinct when she caught at his sleeve. "Castle, wait." His eyes widened as he faced her. They were jostled on either side by the passing crowd but he gave her his complete attention. She had trouble meeting his gaze, but kept darting little peeks at his face between staring at the open collar of his shirt and biting her lip. "Look, if I don't say this now, I probably won't."

He was blessedly silent, for once, waiting with surprise still faintly etched in the lines of his face.

She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. "I want to apologize for the way I behaved yesterday." Her brow puckered and she stared at his Adams apple. "You were right to be concerned. It was—I was out of line." She looked him directly in the face at last. "I owe you an apology." Her green eyes were hesitant, more vulnerable than he'd ever seen them.

He didn't move for a moment, staring at her in growing amazement. His eyes widened and his brow lifted. He blinked, but didn't take his eyes off her.

She glanced away, her cheeks pink, and her eyes cast down. She pursed her lips, before taking one more peek at his face as he reached for his phone and fiddled with it without speaking.

He held it up to her. "Can you say that again, one more time?" The lines around his eyes crinkled merrily, "Just for posterity's sake—and because Ryan and Esposito will never believe me when I tell them."

This time he _saw _her roll her eyes as she walked away.

* * *

_How did you like chapter ten? Please review._


	11. Stuck

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

This chapter was incredibly fun to write! I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**_Stuck_**

_**CHAPTER ELEVEN**_

**_Day 15 Continued..._**

"One case closed in less than two days!" "Feed the Birds!" Esposito grinned as he reached toward Castle, all five fingertips pinched together in a baby bird parody.

"Feed the Birds." Castle smirked back as he played the Mamma bird, feeding the baby bird, tapping his fingertips against Esposito's.

"Yeah, well," Beckett appeared, newly returned from booking. "Laury Zaks was careless, leaving that receipt _and_ the condom around for Ryan to spot.

"Speaking of, good eye, Ryan." Montgomery clapped Ryan on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Feed the Birds." Castle's mama bird pecked at Ryan's baby bird.

"Feed the Birds?" Montgomery looked from one to the other.

"Just my way of saying, _Let's see more of that_."

"Ah," Montgomery turned to Beckett. "How did you know Reni Eschevarria was involved?"

"The lab found her DNA on the condom. It was Castle who noticed it was a glow in the dark _flavored_ condom. The same kind she carries in her Adult Toy Shop."

"You a connoisseur of flavored condoms, Castle?" Ryan grinned.

"I am a man of many talents," he began and then paused, "but not that one." He gave Ryan a pointed look, missing a Beckett eye roll.

Montgomery openly smiled, "Excellent work people. And might I add, nice timing. Four o'clock on a Friday and nothing left but paperwork." He gave his team thumbs up as he disappeared into his office.

"Paperwork, schmakerwork." Ryan grimaced.

Esposito wasn't ready to let the celebratory mood go. "Let's get these reports done and check out that new tavern, Popeye's, for happy hour. They've got $3 margaritas till seven." He glanced around at his colleagues. "Whaddya say? Bring in the weekend with sass?"

"I'll see if Jenny can meet us there." Ryan, already pushing the speed dial on his phone, missed Esposito shaking his head over his smitten partner.

He caught Castle's eye, "He used to be fun. What about you, Castle? Anyplace you have to be?"

Esposito caught the questioning look Castle cast in Beckett's direction and bit back a smirk. Those two might fool Ryan, but not Iceman Ice-posito.

"I'm free." There was a note of reservation in his voice. "Beckett?"

She slowly looked up from the folder in her hands, "Um, yeah. That might be fun. I can come for a while." She headed for her desk and Castle scooted out of her chair, holding it for her as she sat.

Esposito shook his head. Between Ryan and Jenny's goo-goo eyes on one side and Castle and Beckett pretending nothing was going on, He was not about to play the fifth wheel. He dropped into his chair, swiveling into his desk. A moment later, his phone was ringing in his ear. "Lanie, Esposito," he identified himself. "You busy tonight?"

* * *

"You know you can leave if you feel uncomfortable."

"What?" Beckett hesitated as she pulled one arm through the sleeve of her red leather jacket.

Castle was completely serious, "Tonight at Popeye's. If you feel uncomfortable, we'll leave."

Nonplussed, Beckett pulled her jacket the rest of the way on, ignoring the _we._ "Why would I feel uncomfortable?"

"Come _on. _Happy hour on a Friday night? You won't feel funny being the only one _not_ drinking?"

"What makes you think I won't be drinking?" She turned away to hide her smirk.

He scowled at her and opened his mouth to retort but closed it again as Ryan approached.

"I'm going now, in case Jenny's early." He straightened his lapel as he rushed to the elevator, not waiting for a response.

Beckett arched a brow at Castle who shook his head. "Do you think he's ready to propose?" he asked.

Her lips twitched. "Just about."

He shook his head again. "Poor fool."

Beckett returned to their earlier conversation, "I'll be fine tonight, Castle."

"Hey," It was Lanie Parish, who'd ditched her usual scrubs for Friday night wear, a short skirt, heels, and a red camisole peeking out from under a black suede jacket.

"Hey," Beckett smiled at her friend.

"Dr. Parish, I almost didn't recognize you without your scrubs." Castle grinned appreciatively at the M.E.

"Lookin' good Doctor Parish." Esposito arrived at last, having just sent the last report to Montgomery.

"Thank you." Lanie gave him a sideways glance and winked at him. He grinned, tugging his jacket on.

"Let's fly."

"You're in a good mood," she observed.

"Got reason to be. Closed a complicated case in time for the weekend, gonna have some fun tonight—"

"Let's just hope we don't get called for a new body."

"Uh uh, BossLady. Go take your gloomies somewhere else. Body dropping on _my _Friday night is not allowed!" Lanie shook her finger at Beckett.

"Besides, Karpowski's team is on call this weekend." Esposito told her as he led the way out of the elevator.

"Hey, we've a ten block walk; it's a full moon; anything can happen!" Castle grinned.

* * *

"Would you look at that!" Castle grabbed Beckett's arm, pulling her to a stop as he gaped at the dingy window display.

"What?" Her trained eye darted over the store front, simultaneously cataloguing and checking for signs of blood spatter, forced entry, suspicious persons, and noting the security system. Each sweep came up empty. "What is it?"

Castle's voice was low, reverent even, "An exact replica of Dr. Who's _original scarf_!"

"Who?" Her voice was flat, unimpressed.

"Exactly!" Castle looked at her and sighed at her blank expression. "The alien doctor who travels through time and space righting wrongs and defeating foes." You must have heard of it. It's a BBC _classic! _The longest running sci-fi show _ever!_" Castle leaned closer to the window, taking in every detail of the multi-colored scarf.

"Since when are you an expert on long-running sci-fi shows?" Beckett's critical eye gave the scarf a perfunctory glance. She shrugged as a display of cashmere scarves in rustic Autumn colors caught her attention.

"Hey, I'm freezing here," Lanie interrupted, her arms were crossed as she shivered in her mini skirt, but the door chimes were already tinkling in Castle's wake.

Beckett sighed, "We'll be along in a bit."

"We'll see you there." Esposito said, giving her a grin which clearly stated, _Better you than me._ Then to Lanie, "They should try building that kind of following with 14 episodes!"

She followed Castle into the scarf shop. He'd had no trouble finding the display shelf holding several replicas of the scarf. One was already wrapped once around his neck, the ends puddling at his feet.

"Cool, right?" His boyish grin was infectious.

"It's a little short." She couldn't keep from smiling back.

The sales lady, a plump African-American woman with hair lacquered in gorgeous waves, was showing him how to wear it. "Honey you have got the height and shoulders to pull this one off too. Try it this way."

Beckett shook her head at his childish enthusiasm as she browsed. There certainly was a lot to see, scarves for dress, scarves for winter, huge square ones, shawls, smaller neckerchiefs, handkerchiefs… She was drawn to the rack of cashmere scarves she'd noticed from outside. She fingered the fine, maroon fabric. Cashmere was supposed to be warm…

She selected a black one with fuchsia stitching, looping it around her neck. Checking her reflection in one of the many mirrors, she had to admit, the drape was stunning. She rubbed the end of it against her cheek, enjoying the softness.

"Beckett."

She turned around to find Castle with the gargantuan scarf looped three times around his neck, the graceful loops hanging over his chest and across his belly… He cocked a rakish eyebrow at her.

Still wearing the black cashmere, she walked toward him, shaking her head.

"What?"

"It's ridiculous. That scarf has got to be fifteen feet long—"

"Fourteen."

"Fourteen," she conceded. "Why do you need a fourteen foot scarf?"

He pulled the loops over his head. "Because," he answered, dropping a length over her shoulders. "It's _fun." _A moment later it crisscrossed her shoulders and he tied it in front with an enormous bow.

The ends hung to her knees.

"If you ever forget your handcuffs, you can tie your suspects up with this." He grinned, nudging her toward the full length oval mirror, framed in a beautiful honey-oak.

"I'd rather tie you up." She muttered without thinking.

"That can be arranged…" he murmured, his warm breath tickling her ear. "Just remember my safe word is still apples." His blue eyes snared hers in the mirror. He lingered, his lips brushing her hair. The warm teasing was utterly replaced by something else smoldering in the depths of his single eye visible. Her breath caught in her throat and their eyes were locked for a long moment. She felt a fluttering in her belly, a spreading warmth…

"We'll take them both." He announced, to the sales lady who'd retreated behind the check stand. He sauntered toward her, pulling his wallet out.

Kate stared at his back in the mirror as he walked away. How did he do that? She closed her eyes, as she willed her breathing to slow. Then, giving herself a shake, she was pulling the _Who Scarf_ over her head as she zeroed in on what Castle was doing.

"No." Her voice was firm. "No scarf for me, thank you anyway."

"You look sophisticated in—"

"No, _thank you." _She tried to wad the enormous scarf into a ball, but settled for a messy bundle which she shoved into his arms.

"For Lanie, then." He turned back to The Scarf Lady "I'll take it anyway."

Beckett's lips were open to argue with him further but she nodded acquiescence, dropping the cashmere on the counter. Lanie would freeze her tail off without it.

Moments later, they were back on the street, Castle wearing the Whovian scarf with one end dangling down his back, Lanie's tucked into a magenta shopping back. They walked in silence for a time, Beckett pretending not to see him glancing occasionally at her profile.

The silence hung between them, edgy and palpable. It was Castle who first broke it, his voice hesitant, even vulnerable. "I have something for you at home." His eyes lingered on her face.

Beckett made a sound in the back of her throat. "It better not be more panties."

"It's not." Then he grinned, "Have you worn them yet?" It was too dark to see the gleam in his eyes but she could hear it in his voice, "Because, there is a very _hot _coordinating negligee that I—"

"If you like it so much maybe I should return the panties to you." She gave him a wicked smile, "Just so you can _wear_ the coordinating set—you understand."

Castle cocked his head slightly, as if considering. "Will it make me look fat?" he dead-panned.

"It's supposed to make you look _hot—"_

A smile tipped the corner of his mouth and he leaned closer, murmuring, "Do I look hot without it?"

"I—" Beckett swallowed. Did he look hot? Her cheeks grew warm as she struggled to think of a safe answer. A memory sprang forward, unbidden, of his weight upon her, and his touch—she pushed it away. She peeked at him from the side. He was grinning at her. _Damn._

Satisfied by the answer the awkward silence gave him, he changed the subject. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Beckett grimaced. "Looking for an apartment."

"Still haven't found one?"

"Nope."

"How long can you sublet this one for?"

She sighed, her frustration evident, "The owner's return from Europe in two months." He could hear the discouragement in her voice. A companionable silence fell between them as each considered the impossibility of affordable housing in New York City.

"What happens if you don't find one by then?"

"I either find another sublet, or move into the boroughs." The quiet between them only highlighted the city sounds around them. They turned onto Amsterdam, not much further.

"You know what?"

She looked up at him, her green eyes lustrous in the smoky twilight.

"You should move in."

Beckett's jaw dropped open, and she abruptly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and faced him. "Wh-What?" She was sure she hadn't heard him correctly.

"We have an extra bedroom. You'd have your own bathroom. Why not?"

"I can't move in with you!"

"Why not?" he repeated.

"Because…" Beckett blinked several times before answering. "Because you and I are not _together_, for one thing. For another, we _work_ together, and I need my space, and for a third thing, it's _ludicrous!_"

It's not ludicrous, it's perfect! Think of it; it's closer to the precinct, secure, _with_ a doorman, a community weight room and _underground parking_. We can carpool! Or share a cab."

"Castle!"

"What?"

"We are _not_ dating. We are _not_ together."

"I know that. I wasn't suggesting sharing bedrooms, although," he grinned as though he'd just now thought of it, "that would be fun!" His voice was husky.

Beckett stalked away and he hurried to keep up. "Just think about it." He hesitated, swallowing hard, then, with his voice lower he said, "With the baby coming, it would be ideal. We could both take care of her, be part of her life."

Her head snapped up and her eyes widened. Clearly, she hadn't thought of this new angle.

"Just think it over," he encouraged.

This time, her tone was completely different. "No. Thank you for the offer, Castle, but I can't live with you."

He sighed, "Alright. But I get to pick out the couch."

Her brows snapped together. "Excuse me?"

"Well, if you're not going to move in, then I'll be staying with _you_ when the baby's born." He quirked a brow at her astonishment. "I will require a comfortable place to sleep." He gave her a sexy smile. "Unless you prefer to share?"

She stared at him in shock.

"No?" he sighed, "Well, it'll have to be a very comfy couch then, cause I like to spread out. Maybe a sectional?" he mused.

"No."

"Well alright but it'll have to be long—"

"_No_, you're not living with me, you're not—"Beckett shook her head frantically.

They stopped again, this time under a streetlight. "Okay." He stared at her for a long moment, his brow furrowed as he considered her. She started to walk away. "But you do realize you're stuck with me now."

She stopped and bit her lip before facing him. "How's that?" She crossed her arms. A tiny line appeared between her brows.

He waited until she dragged her eyes back to his. "If we have a baby together," he spoke slowly, his voice soft, "There will always be visitations to arrange, birthdays, holidays, graduations…." His voice trailed off as he watched her closely for her reaction. "You can never completely walk away from me."

_I walk away from you?_ She thought, her mouth dropping slightly open. _He_ was the one who was always _leaving_! How could he suggest—She swallowed hard.

She was still staring at him when he took her cold hand in his warm one. "Come on. We'll solve the world's problems tomorrow." He laced his fingers through hers and drew them into his pocket. He was smiling as they approached the tavern.

She was wondering what the hell just happened.

They were nearly to the tavern when she pulled her icy fingers from his. He let her go, and held open the heavy carved door. She was very aware of his presence behind her, as she peered through the gloom, carefully avoiding eye contact with him. An unmistakable peal of laughter from a certain M.E. wafted from a corner. "This way," she muttered to Castle. They made their way to the table where their teammates perched on stools.

"There you are!" Ryan greeted them, one hand clasped with Jenny's as he waved them over. "We were wondering what happened to you."

"Yeah Bro," Esposito remarked to Castle, his voice pitched for his ears alone, "Did you find a dark corner so Beckett could give you a pat down?"

Castle's eyes widened in genuine surprise at the implication, "What are you insinuating?"

Ryan interrupted, "Oh my God! That's a genuine _Dr. Who scarf!"_

Castle's dimples popped as he vamped, "Cool right?"

_"YES!"_

Esposito made a disparaging remark as Beckett quietly greeted Jenny, gratefully taking the remaining seat, between her and Lanie; who leaned over to snap a phone pic of the three stooges. Castle beamed between the two shorter men, a loop from the scarf around each. Ryan was completely delighted.

Esposito was less than thrilled. "Lanie, if that picture ever sees the light of day…"

"You'll what?" She arched her brows, looking him over as though taking his measure.

He tossed the end of the scarf back at Castle, and was about to give Lanie answer when the waitress arrived and began placing drinks in front of each of them.

"Whoa. What is this?" Castle stared down at a salt-rimmed margarita glass in front of him.

"Popeye's Specialty, Bro." Esposito grinned, "Spinach margarita!" He lifted his own draft beer to salute the writer.

Castle stared at the drink and then looked at Esposito, "You're joking."

"A full day's supply of iron, vitamin C, and, best of all, _fiber!_ Very nutritious." Ryan laughed.

"The whole point of an alcoholic beverage is they're _not _nutritious!" Castle protested. "The city health department allows them to serve this? It looks like seaweed and tadpoles met their demise in a blender." His eyes widened suddenly and he looked up. "Oo! A blender would be a very interesting tool for _hiding a body!"_

Jenny, unused to Castle's morbid tangents, giggled harder.

Beckett smiled slightly at her friends' antics, until an identical glass was set in front of her. "I didn't order this," she protested to the beleaguered waitress, shaking her head slightly. The waitress merely pointed at Esposito before turning to the next table. She looked up to find Castle staring at her, his brow furrowed slightly as he looked from the glass to her. She bit her lip and turned away.

He winked anyway and took a cautious sip of his margarita. "Pineapple, tequila and kelp." He identified the main ingredients for his audience. More laughter as he tipped his head back, downing the drink in one go. He slammed the glass down to general hoots and hollers, grimacing good naturedly.

"The whole thing?"

"I can't believe he drank it!"

"Don't stop there, Castle." Beckett slid her glass in front of him.

"Oh, _hey now!_ That's _your_ drink! I bought that _especially_ for you." Esposito was clearly enjoying himself.

"Let her be," Lanie admonished him, laying a hand on his arm. He didn't seem to mind. She seemed in no hurry to move it away.

Castle cradled the stem with one hand, _without_ drinking, while he listened to the conversations swirling around him. Not that Beckett blamed him. The drink looked disgusting.

Still, she appreciated the chivalrous gesture. Beckett slipped away to the relative privacy of the bar. "Two lime margaritas. Make one virgin." she told the bartender.

Moments later the waitress set a margarita in front of her. "This one's the regular." She pushed a second glass in front of her, where the usual spinach leaf garnish pierced a maraschino cherry. "Here's the virgin."

"Thank you." Beckett muttered. She slid the plain margarita across the table toward Castle and then tipped the waitress, who began collecting empty glassware.

"Ah. Now this is a margarita!" He pushed the spinach margarita glasses toward the waitress who didn't even blink at the untouched drink.

* * *

_I would love to hear which are your favorite parts and which made you laugh out loud. Any kind of feedback is good. Review?_

_Coming soon, Martha & Beckett. For the record, I'm not a Whovian, but researched it to make it feel authentic. _


	12. Smothering

_**July 24, 2010**_

Dear Readers,

The good news, is I am making great progress on chapter 13! This really _is _going to be the Martha/Beckett chapter! The bad news is I'm moving again. I may scream... :-p More good news, writing is a wonderful escape from the yucky parts of life. :-)

Thank you for all the reviews and messages. I appreciate your support and all the positive comments.

* * *

_Dear Readers, _

_Things have been wild around here since the last time I published, including starting a summer job, out of state company, ten days of vacation, a birthday/father's day and school getting out has made things pretty busy. I really appreciate the messages and reviews from those of you who've come looking for the next installment. They definitely encourage me to gedderdone. _

_The good news is the new job is only a couple of hours a day for six weeks. So don't worry, no drastic life changes will prevent me from writing. Of course having my kids around 24/7 just might! Why does writing/editing around my kids seem so impossible? _

_More good news on the s__tory, the ending is planned and I just this week finished a rough draft of the epilogue. Of course, we have half the story to go before you get to read it... But the ending now has a solid form and when I get to writing that part it will happen fast. We can all be glad of that! As always, thanks to my husband and my beta readers for the feedback. (You know who you are!)_

_Blessings,_

_Bren_

* * *

_**Disclaimer:**__ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

_**Smothering**_

_**Chapter Twelve**_

_********__Day 15 Continued..._  


The music blaring from the speaker behind her was giving Kate a headache. Jenny and Ryan, sitting on her right, were giggling over something ridiculous. She closed her eyes against the bands of pain tightening around her skull. Maybe it was the caffeine withdrawal again. She sighed and massaged her forehead, then twisted around for her purse.

Across the table, Castle's head turned, watching her pull a small white bottle out, even as he continued his conversation with Lanie & Esposito. She fiddled with the child safety cap, not noticing Castle leave the table. She shook out two more pills and was about to leave her seat when he reappeared, this time at her elbow with a tall glass of what appeared to be water.

"That's not vodka," he teased her, whispering in her ear. He reclaimed his seat completely missing her small frown.

Castle. He was acting _very_ domesticated. Anticipating her need for water, Tylenol, holding her chair while she sat—as though she couldn't handle a rolling desk chair! She shook her head as she popped her pills and reached for the glass.

_Little things._ Those were just little things, not terribly different from his usual behavior of bringing her coffee and watching her do paperwork. Except… She lifted the glass to her lips. Except he'd just asked her to move in with him. Except he wanted to buy her furniture. Except he _claimed_ she was stuck with him now. Something fluttered in her belly, remembering his quiet earnest voice telling her she couldn't completely leave…

She closed her eyes, feeling the cold water slide down her throat, washing away the sticky after taste of virgin margaritas. She took her time drinking, carefully avoiding his gaze as she set the empty glass on the table. Nibbling her lower lip, she stared at the scratched and beringed table, wondering, what she was going to do with a baby, let alone that baby's father.

_Too much. It's all too much._ She bit her lip. _Time to go home for some quiet. _She glanced around at her friends. Ryan and Jenny, their hands clasped, were conversing in low tones. On the other end of the table, Esposito was teaching Castle to play table football. Lanie appeared to be refereeing.

Castle set the paper football on its tip and took careful aim for Esposito's finger goal posts. A solid flick and the folded paper was airborne. Esposito's head swiveled to watch it fly passed.

"Out of bounds," Lanie ruled.

Beckett stood, gathering her bag.

"You're leaving?"

It was Castle. O_f course. _Kate pushed her hair behind her ear. "Busy day tomorrow. And I'm beat." She slung the leather satchel onto her shoulder.

"Good luck with the apartment hunting." Lanie looked very comfortable where she now sat between Castle and Esposito. Kate smiled, wondering if it was the friendly camaraderie that put the pleased smile on Lanie's face, or the handsome detective who was leaning a little closer than necessary.

"Thanks." A frown furrowed her brow as the legs of Castle's stool grated across the floor. "What are you doing, Castle?"

"Buying them one last round before we go."

"We?" Kate pinched the bridge of her nose. The Tylenol hadn't yet kicked in. "I'm just going home, Castle. Goodnight guys." Beckett caught Esposito's smirk and gave him a look before turning to Jenny. "It was great to see you again, Jenny."

"Oh." Castle hesitated at her abrupt tone. "Well, I have to leave anyway. Alexis—" he paused and Beckett wondered if he was making up an excuse to leave with her. "Alexis will be home soon and I want to be there for her."

_Lame, Castle._ She waved at their friends and left, catching the disappointed glances between Ryan and Esposito as Castle followed her out without buying them the round of drinks he'd mentioned.

"You up for table football, Ryan?" Ryan's reply was lost in the din of a populace grateful to have made it to Friday night.

Castle was two steps behind her as they exited the tavern. Outside, she zipped her jacket against the cool October night, letting him catch up.

It looked to be a typical starless night in New York City. Traffic was light and many of the shops were already closed up behind steel security doors.

Castle watched her intently. He _always_ watched her intently. "By the way, _thank you _for the margaritas." One corner of his mouth tipped upwards as he lowered his voice. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get me drunk," he teased.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, well, I was trying to get you _distracted_ so I could slip away without you offering to carry my books." _Subtle, Beckett,_ she congratulated herself. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Seriously," "I appreciated the escape route on that _spinach _margarita." She finished with a wry smile. For a moment their eyes met and he grinned, the lines around his eyes crinkling up the way she loved—she bit her lip and looked down as she hitched her purse higher on her shoulder.

"See you Monday, Castle." She was turning to walk away when his voice gave her pause.

"Do you want to share a cab?"

Why did she have the feeling he'd happily ride along with whatever she chose for herself? "Castle, why don't you take a cab? I'm taking the subway."

"Yeah, sure." he watched her walk away. For a moment, she thought she'd escaped; five feet, ten feet away. Then she heard footsteps hurrying to catch up and she felt torn between amusement and annoyance. She'd known she wouldn't get away from him that easily.

"Hey, are you in for the poker game tomorrow night?" His tone was a little too casual as he fell into step beside her. She kept walking.

"Poker?" her tone was flat.

"Yeah." He gave her a sideways glance as he fell into step beside her.

A little frown pulled down the corners of her mouth as she considered her words. "I don't think so Castle." She turned and faced him at last. "Look, I appreciate everything you're trying to do here, but I need some space to think everything over, and I've got to find a place to live, and Esposito is getting suspicious and…" _I'm pregnant with _your _baby, and you're being incredibly sweet—for now—but can I count on you?_ She bit her lip and turned to look into his somber eyes.

He was silent for a beat and then he quietly observed, "I'm smothering you."

"Castle, I—" She hesitated.

"No, I get it." His gaze never wavered. "You need some space." He stared at her another moment.

She bobbed her head once, "Yes."

"Okay." He made no move to walk away. "Well, I'll just go home and you can call me if you need to talk. Or anything."

She bit her lip to hide her relief. "Yeah."

* * *

"Dad, what is _that?"_

"A Dr. Who scarf." Rick closed the door to the loft behind him and gave his family a tired smile.

"I didn't know you even watched that show."

"I don't, _now._ But when I was ten? Dr. Who was the coolest guy ever, and my favorite incarnation of Dr. Who wore _this."_

Rick unwound the scarf from his neck and draped it over Alexis Castle's shoulders.

"Look at that." Martha appeared with a wine glass in either hand. She offered one to Rick but he shook his head.

"I've had enough to drink tonight, thank you."

Martha emptied the extra goblet into her own. "I on the other hand, am just getting started."

"Rough night, Mother? I hope Alexis didn't have to ground you." He grinned at his daughter who winked conspiratorially.

Martha cast him a disparaging glance. "Not really."

"Gram and Chet had a fight."

Rick's head snapped up, his eyes wide as he stared at his mother, a coat hanger forgotten in his hand. "Mother? Is it serious?"

"Sssst!" Alexis coughed discretely.

"Oh stop it!" Martha turned to him. "We had a minor disagreement is all." She sighed and walked away, sipping from her goblet.

Rick let out a long breath and went back to hanging up his coat.

Alexis leaned close enough for her father to catch the spicy citrus scent of her perfume. "Chet wants Gram to come to his daughter's birthday dinner tomorrow."

"I thought you'd met his kids already."

"Yes, at _his_ birthday dinner. Trust me, it's one thing to meet Daddy's girlfriend on _his day, _but on _her _birthday?" Martha sagely shook her head. "The last thing she wants is a reminder that her mother is gone."

Rick collapsed on the leather sofa and stretched out his legs. Alexis curled up beside him, nestling against his shoulder. "How does Chet feel about that?" he asked.

Martha frowned as she poured more wine.

He waited. Then, "Mother?"

"He suggested maybe I'm afraid of commitment."

"Ah." Rick looked at Alexis, his lips pursed as if he were trying to hold his tongue. Or hide a smile.

"I see you smirking over there, Mr. Castle, and I don't see _you_ tying yourself down."

"I—ah, Did I say anything?"

"You didn't have to. It was all over your face!"

"I'm sure you and Chet will work things out," Alexis soothed.

"Of course we will." Martha sighed. "Enough about Chet and me. How is Kate today?"

Rick suddenly felt a need for a drink of his own. "Tea-totaling." He grinned briefly at his own pun and then shrugged. "She's—she's doing okay. About as well as can be expected."

Four identical blue eyes regarded him in silence. Distraction was always his favorite tool for deflecting attention away from where he didn't want it. "How was your evening out together? Did you see a movie or go to the theatre?"

"We ate at a very cute Mediterranean café and then browsed some of the shops in Soho. We found—oh! That's Ash!" Alexis pulled her ringing cell out of her pocket, "Hi," her tone was soft and breathy as she scurried upstairs to the privacy of her own room. Rick frowned after her.

Martha sipped her wine as she watched her son watching her granddaughter go. Then she took Alexis's place on the couch, folding one leg beneath her as she faced him. "Now that she's gone, tell me how Kate _really_ is."

Rick sighed and ran both hands through his hair. _So much for distraction._ "We wrapped up the case and went out for drinks with the rest of the team." He paused. "She's apartment hunting tomorrow." He frowned to himself thinking. "She's a bit overwhelmed, actually." He stared at the molding around the ceiling and it was Martha's turn to wait. "I may have jumped the shark, suggesting she move in."

"You what?" Martha Rogers stared at her son, aghast.

"I invited her to move in with us. It's silly for her to go to the trouble and expense of finding an apartment when we've got an extra room."

"Richard, really."

"And with the baby coming, it will make things a lot easier for her. She won't have to cook or clean—"

"Richard!"

"What?"

"Kate Beckett is a tough and _independent_ woman. She's used to taking care of herself and she is _not_ going to want to be _kept_ by you."

Rick was silent as he considered her words. "You're right." He said at last. "She wasn't thrilled about the idea of me moving in with her, either."

"Oh Richard." Martha regarded her son fondly. She smoothed an errant strand of hair off his forehead.

"She'll come around." Rick added dismissively.

Martha shook her head in exasperation. "Richard, a woman like Kate Beckett is not going to move in with someone out of convenience. She'll find a way to make it work, baby or not. The sooner you realize that the further you'll get with her." Martha sipped her wine as she regarded her son.

Rick blew out a breath as he thought over her words.

She set her goblet down. "Did you talk about the baby at all? How's she feeling about the pregnancy?"

"I think she's going to keep it."

"And you base this on…"

"Kate wants to be a mom. She _told_ me so today, but I've known for a while that's what she wants. She'll keep it." He stared off into space, remembering their conversation that morning. "I think she's floundering a bit with the reality of such a major life event, being _unplanned."_

Martha nodded as she listened. "Do you remember how you reacted when you found out about Alexis?"

Rick chuckled ruefully. "How could I forget?" He shook his head. "I was convinced my life was over, that I'd never have any fun again, that the world as I knew it was over, which it wasn't…" The two lapsed into silence for a moment.

"You said it would be like being grounded for the rest of your life." Martha remembered.

"Of course, I had no idea what that would be like, never having to finish a grounding sentence in my life." She whapped his arm. He turned to her, his brow furrowed in concern. "Do you think Kate feels that way? Like it'll ruin her life?"

Martha looked at him like he was dense. "Of course she does! She wants kids but—"

"But not like this." He dropped his head against the back of the sofa, frowning at the ceiling.

"Not like this," Martha agreed, sipping her drink. "Has she told her father yet?"

"I—don't know," Rick admitted, pondering. He turned to his mother with a bemused smile. "How did you feel when you found out about me?"

Martha's eyes widened for an instant and her face became very still. "It was much as you'd expect. High drama, low budget." She swirled her wine in her glass, remembering. "You know what that girl needs?" Her voice was quiet as she stared at the bit of red wine remaining in her glass.

"A rich sugar daddy?"

Martha didn't respond, as she was lost in thought. "She needs mothering, from a mature woman who's _been_ there." Her voice was quiet.

Rick was silent a moment. Then, "Do you know someone like that?"

Martha gave him a playful swat. "You'd better watch it, Kiddo. Or I'll make your grounding _stick _this time."

* * *

_How did you like Chapter 12? Review?_

_Still coming, Martha & Beckett._


	13. Around the Block

**_September 1, 2010_**

I bow to the persistent pleas for an update. You can find a teaser for Chapter 14 under the story titled, **_As Good As On Paper TEASERS_**. I expect to update _As Good As On Paper _with chapter 14 around mid September. I hope that helps with the wait.

* * *

**August 15, 2010**

To my anonymous reviewer, Alex:

Thank you for your enthusiastic reviews, and I understand that when it comes to great stories, sometimes it's hard to wait. However, my home is currently divided between two houses, and zero progress has been made in writing chapter fourteen. You're just going to have to wait. Check back in two more weeks for more info.

Positive notes from my readers aways motivate me to get to writing, so when I say thank you, I mean it. :-)

Bren

P.S. If you sign your reviews (or log in to fanfiction dot net) I can contact you privately.

* * *

_**Author's note:**_

_As always, thanks to my Beta Readers and thank _you_ for the wonderful reviews! It makes my day when I get one and whenever I reread. _

_The bad news… I'm moving again! Yeesh! The good news, if you're looking for updates, I often post new Author's Notes at the top of my most recent chapter. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**_Around the Block_ **

**_CHAPTER THIRTEEN_**

_**Day16:**__ 250 days to go. Saturday, October 9, 2010_

The true placenta does not begin to form until this week of development. The placenta forms at the site where the fertilized egg attached to the uterine wall.

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p 15-16_

* * *

The landlord had called it a _postage stamp kitchen._ It was an apt description.

Kate's bangs fluttered as she blew out a breath in frustration. How much did she really cook anyway? Her arsenal of kitchen tools was gone. There was room for a small microwave—a necessity for reheating takeout. She could get a smaller drain rack. That left just enough space to slice a tomato or cheese. A glance out the small window revealed an expanse of brick wall. She sighed again, longing for her old apartment. She'd always known she was lucky to have it. But she'd never appreciated just how lucky.

"Is there a laundry facility in the building?"

"Laundromat down the street." The elderly landlady claimed the only seat the empty studio boasted, the closed lid of the commode.

Kate nodded. She stood in what passed for a hallway between the bathroom and kitchen nook, staring at the exposed brick in the living room. At least it offered hardwood flooring.

"I'll think about it."

"Well don't think too long." Her potential landlord answered in a gravelly voice. "This place is gonna go fast."

Kate nodded again. "Thank you for your time."

The landlady grunted unappreciatively as Kate let herself out.

Kate clattered down the rectangular stairwell and out the narrow hallway to open air. She couldn't live there. She took several deep breaths as she dropped a much folded sheet of notes in the trash. She promised herself to expand the network of friends whom she'd asked to keep their ears open.

She briefly considered asking Castle for help. He moved in different circles, and had such a variety of contacts. Chances were good he knew someone who knew someone… But, somehow things were complicated enough between them. She didn't want to feel indebted to him too.

She sighed again. It would take a small miracle to get her in a likable East Village apartment. Maybe she should look closer to the precinct. The Upper West Side wasn't so bad. She might find something more affordable.

Her cell phone trilled, showing an unfamiliar number. _Probably work._ She glanced around as she put the phone to her ear. "Beckett."

"Hey, Kiddo. How's the apartment hunting?"

"Martha!" Kate's eyes widened slightly but she smiled. "Could be worse," she lied to them both. "What's going on? Are you looking for Castle?"

A low chuckle, "No, Darling, not this time. I have something for you."

"You do? Okay." Her eyes widened as she headed down the steps toward the subway, nonplussed.

"Do you have plans for supper?"

Take out nibbled between loads of laundry. "No plans. Do you want to meet?"

"Your place? I'll bring dinner."

"Great! I'll bring wine." The words fell out of Kate's mouth without thinking and she cringed.

"Oh, Darling, that's not necessary." Martha chuckled again. "Water would be wonderful."

Clicking the phone off moments later, Kate bit her lip. Martha knew.

Boarding the subway, she wondered what Martha had for her and why Castle told his mother so soon. She shrugged.

She seated herself on the hard plastic and absently stared at the ads posted in a long line above the grimy windows. She scowled as she recognized the naked silhouette of her alter ego. She was still frowning when she scored an abandoned copy of the Ledger, losing herself in the front page.

* * *

"Hi, Martha." Kate swung her front door open, standing aside for Martha, who shifted her parcels to give her a one-armed hug.

"Hey there, Kiddo."

A smile fluttered over Beckett's face as she hugged her back. "Thanks for coming."

"Thank you for having me. And on such short notice! Martha pulled away and glanced around. "Well, this is charming. Did it come furnished?"

"Thank you, and yes." Kate reached for the brown paper bag on Martha's arm. "What are we having?"

"Israeli food. Salmon kebabs, falafel…" Martha, waved her hand dismissively. "They have the _best _pitas, so I got extra."

"It smells wonderful! Shall we eat while it's hot?" Kate set the bag on the table between place settings for two, Next to a small vase of multi-colored dahlias.

"Absolutely. I wasn't sure what you'd like so I got a variety." Martha began pulling out white Styrofoam containers.

"I'll get drinks."

Martha chattered easily about her girls' night with Alexis as she served them both. Kate was content to listen, chuckling occasionally at Martha's theatrical descriptions.

They talked of Kate's work during dinner, Chet, and plays Martha had been in, which ones Kate had seen, and which shows were a waste of time. She told rollicking tales of Rick entertaining himself while his mother was on stage, teaching the finer points of Texas Hold 'Em to child stars such as Dulé Hill and hiding props from the props master.

Finally, as Kate wiped tears from her eyes, and the laughter faded away, she looked up to find Martha regarding her with a thoughtful expression.

"I hear congratulations are in order." Martha glanced over at Kate, who nodded slowly.

"Thank you." Her voice was quiet.

Martha's face was kind. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine so long as Castle keeps the coffee away, and there's no scented candles around."

"If that's as bad as it gets then count yourself lucky." Martha nodded her understanding. "The worst part of pregnancy is you can't drink any alcohol and you _still_ get hung-over in the morning." Kate chuckled and Martha continued, smiling as she rose to fetch her bag.

"Alexis and I found this in an adorable Motherhood shop in Soho. She swore you _had _to have it. Which of course, you did!" She pulled a flat package from its depths and dropped the oversized bag at her feet. She placed the gift in Kate's hands.

_Alexis knows too? Great._ Bemused, Kate accepted the gift, noticing the baby pink wrap and a large powder blue bow. "Thank you," she said simply. She stared at it a moment then slid one finger under a fold of heavy paper, lifting the tape along the seam. A moment later, she pushed the paper aside and scanned the title. "_The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy."_ She curiously opened the cover.

"You'll notice there are places for you to make notes as well as read about your baby's development and oh—I don't know what all." Martha smiled warmly. "Alexis was so excited to find that for you!" Of course, I was too. But Alexis always wanted a brother or sister. Did you know that?"

"No." Kate flipped through a number of pages, skimming the diary-like entries. "I did too." Her voice was quiet.

"Excuse me?"

"Brothers and sisters." Kate elaborated. "I never had any either. Mom and Dad were lucky to have me at all."

"Ah. Fertility trouble." Martha nodded understanding.

Kate shook her head but did not elaborate.

Martha dropped into silence, watching Kate flip through the pages of her journal. "Have you told your father yet?"

"No. I was thinking about seeing him tomorrow, but I don't know if I'm ready to tell him."

Martha had refilled their glasses. She sat beside Kate who, a little reluctantly, set aside the journal.

"Now." Martha reached out and squeezed Kate's knee meaningfully. "How are you? _Really?_"

"I'm fine." Kate began, breaking off when Martha gave her _the look._ She gave an odd little laugh and was quiet a moment. "This all feels," she paused, searching for a word, "kind of surreal. Like this is going to turn out to be some sort of… mistake."

Martha nodded knowingly.

I had a blood test yesterday. It was positive." She stared up at the ceiling, a frown marring her brow. "I really am pregnant." She said each word slowly, as though trying to make herself believe it.

Martha's smile was kind. "It does take a while to sink in."

Kate smiled gratefully, then bit her lip. "What was it like for you, being a single mom?"

Martha got up and meandered to the window. "They called us _unwed mothers_ then." She gazed at the slice of the Manhattan skyline barely visible between neighboring buildings. "My sister bought me a test when I was about five or six months along and insisted I take it." She stared out the window for another moment. When she continued, her voice was soft. "I was in complete denial." Martha sipped her ice water, remembering.

She seemed to shake off her melancholy as she returned to sit beside Kate, renewing her usual light tone of voice. "My parents took it well." Then she gave Kate a meaningful look. "Richard comes from a long line of rather _short_ pregnancies, if you do the math."

Kate grinned appreciatively.

"On my mother's side any way. My father's parents were scandalized. They threatened to cut me out of their will if I didn't give the baby up." Something flashed across Martha's face, but she waved it away, continuing, "They were stuffy and boring. I decided I'd rather give _them_ up." She winked at Kate. "Best decision I ever made." She fell silent again and Kate could almost glimpse the young woman struggling over her decisions.

"It wasn't an ideal situation to bring a baby into, but we muddled along." She was smiling as she fidgeted with her glass, twirling it absently.

"My Mom stuck around for the first couple of years to help take care of Richard while I worked. "Then she moved to Florida after Dad died; where she made a _killing_ swindling other retirees at shuffleboard." Martha smiled fondly. "She really knew how to have fun."

_That quality seems to run in the family,_ Kate observed to herself. "She's gone now?"

"That's right." Martha smiled as she remembered.

"I'm sorry." Kate ducked her head, her hair falling forward to conceal her face.

Martha's eyes widened for a second as she took in Kate's sympathy. "Darling, don't be. They were part of my life for many years. I was lucky. I—" Their eyes met. Martha stumbled at what she saw there. "As we both know," she finished lamely.

Kate nodded. She could not bring herself to fake a smile even for Martha. It was an awkward silence.

"You must be missing your mother."

"I—"

Martha reached over and squeezed Kate's hand.

"Yes." Her brow furrowed as she let out a heavy sigh.

"Hang in there, Kiddo."

Kate blinked rapidly several times. "I just never thought I'd be facing parenthood so _alone_," her voice was thick.

"But, Darling, surely you realize you're not raising this baby _alone?_ Your baby has grandparents! A big sister, and not to mention, a _very_ hands-on Father. Let me tell you, raising a teenage boy is no picnic. But without a father figure?" Martha shuddered. "Good luck!"

"I bet he was a handful."

Martha nodded and winked. "Still is."

"No argument there!" The two women grinned at each other.

"My point is, you won't be raising this child alone." I know it must seem like it right now, being, how shall we say? Unattached? But it'll work out. You'll see."

She sounded so sure of herself that for a moment, Kate almost believed her. She took a deep breath then breathed it out. "I think I have some Mint Milanos."

"That sounds wonderful."

Kate was glad for an excuse to busy herself for a few moments. "What was Castle like?" She pulled the paper and foil package out of a cupboard, reaching for dishes from another as she submerged her raw emotions. "As a baby I mean."

"Completely adorable!" Martha declared glowing.

Kate couldn't help a small smile. "I always dip mine in milk," she explained as she set two tumblers on the coffee table. She offered Martha a plate of the oval cookies.

Martha accepted one, still smiling. "He was such a _good_ baby. He never knew a stranger, he'd grin, and laugh—"

"Sounds like he hasn't changed much." Kate's tone was dry, but her lips curved upward as she reclaimed her seat.

Martha laughed, "That may be true." She was lost in thought for a moment, munching on a cookie.

She cast Kate a speculative glance which Kate pretended not to notice, scooping up a cookie and dunking it in her tumbler of milk.

"Kate?"

"Mmm?"

"You do realize," Martha gently explained, "That my son is completely crazy about you."

Kate's eyes widened and she could feel her heart hammering in her chest, as she sat up a little straighter. "He—"she swallowed. "Then why—" she hesitated, her half-eaten cookie in hand. Finally, her voice was small, "Do you think so?"

Martha only smiled and helped herself to another Milano. "I know my son." Was all she would say.

A long silence hovered between them. Martha took another cookie and nibbled it down, giving Kate much needed time to think.

Then, "He brought something home for you the other night." She chuckled as she brushed a few crumbs off her lap. "He tried not to let us see it, but…" She winked, "The cat was _out_ of the bag." Pulling another rectangular package out of her satchel, she presented it to Kate. "From Richard."

Kate accepted it with mixed feelings. It was too heavy to be lingerie, _Thank God!_ She looked it over, catching her lip between her teeth.

"He'd rather given it to you personally, but he was sure you'd prefer this to be private."

Kate nodded, remembering the panty debacle in the precinct.

"What are you waiting for? Open it!" Martha commanded genially.

Nervously, Kate slid the brightly colored paper off and let it drop. "Oh!"

"Not what you were expecting?"

"From _Castle_?" Kate raised a brow incredulously. "No." She turned _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ over in her hands and finally smiled. "That's actually, kind of sweet."

"I think he inscribed it to you. Look inside."

She opened the cover to see his curiously neat handwriting on the inside:

_You will be an extraordinary mother. __Thinking of you._

_-Rick_

_P.S. I would have delivered this personally, but I didn't want to get shot when you saw another gift in my hand. _

The lines of her face softened and tension eased out of her shoulders. "That is… really sweet." She lifted her eyes to meet Martha's then read the inscription a second time. Kate carefully closed the book, setting it beside the journal.

"Well, I should probably let you get on with your evening." Martha rose and straightened her skirt as she rummaged for her keys in her bag.

Kate glanced at her watch, 7:47. The long evening stretched before her, flat and stale.

"Martha?"

"Yes, Dear." She faced her, keys in hand.

"I don't have anything going tonight." She hesitated, catching her lower lip between her teeth. "If you'd like to stay, we could watch a movie, or I think the Sound of Music is on."

A slow smile crept over Martha's face. "I'd love that! The Sound of Music is one of my favorites. You know, I had a part in the Broadway version?" She waved one hand airily. "Mary Martin was _such_ a prima donna!"

* * *

Kate didn't bother with the overhead light but reached for the bedside lamp instead. Sighing, she slid her shoes off and set them neatly in place in her closet. Her fingers brushed the walnut lid of the small box on her dresser, disturbing a light layer of dust. She leaned over to gaze at the beloved faces in the inset photo. Dad's hair was so much darker then. She wondered if her mother would've begun dyeing hers, had she lived.

Lifting the lid, she pulled off her father's watch and nestled it in one corner. Unclasping the silver chain around her neck, she held the wedding ring between two fingers, remembering the way it had looked on her mother's finger. She let the ends of the chain pool in the box, and lay the ring on top. She sighed again as she closed the lid.

Telling Dad would be… bittersweet.

She turned Martha's words over in her mind as she undressed. _Surely you realize you're not raising this baby _alone? She tried to imagine the five of them forming a family around a baby. Dad, Martha, Alexis hovering in the background and Castle… captivated by the tiny baby in his arms.

Her stomach did something strange.

She tugged a tank top over her head and grabbed her phone, flipping to the calendar feature. Looking at last month, she counted forward until today. She reached for her new pregnancy journal, dating the entries from day one till day 16. She snuggled under covers as she read today's entry. Below was a place for notes.

She wrote:

_Looking for an apartment. _

She made a face and continued.

_Had dinner with Martha tonight, and received this book from her and Alexis. Also received _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ from C—_

She paused, her pen halfway through the curve of the C. An image came to her of the child forming inside her reading this someday. He wouldn't be _Castle_ to that child. She bit her lip and carefully finished the sentence.

_–from Daddy._

She set the pen aside and stared at what she'd written. Nodding to herself, she turned out the light.

* * *

_**Author's note:**_

_This was one of the more challenging chapters to get right, as Martha and Beckett have little screen time together. _

_Coming up? Trouble in Paradise!_

_How did you like it? Please make my day. Tell me about your favorite parts. Write a Review!_


	14. Love Me, Love Me Not

**_October 10, 2010_**

_I just posted a deleted scene under "As Good As On Paper-Teasers" It is a snippet which will not be published here, and I explain why there. It's just a little something to help with the wait. I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

**September 23, 2010**

_Hey there, remember me? Sorry about the long hiatus. Real life was insane, including a household move for the __second time this_ summer. Bleh. I don't recommend moving for increasing productivity. _Thank you to all my readers for waiting so patiently for an update. This is for you. And again, thank you for the gentle reminders that you're waiting. They really do help. Remember, you can always check here to find out the latest news. _

_And to my beta readers, a huge thank you again! (I dare not name them all for fear of leaving someone out!) You guys are the greatest! _

_I was absolutely blown away by the sheer volume of reviews on chapter 13. Thank you, so much! I love them, and appreciate you taking the time to tell me what you think! _

___This part of the story takes place in Oct 2010. As Good As On Paper goes alternate universe after the Late Shaft. Which means Castle did his appearance on the Bobby Mann show, but none of that nonsense with Demming, Gina, or The Hamptons happened._

_My apologies to the ghost of Mary Martin for Martha calling her a prima donna in chapter 13. All accounts are that she was as wonderful on stage as off. _

* * *

**LOVE ME... LOVE ME NOT...**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**_Day 16 continued…_**

One arm curled under her pillow as she lay on her side, a soft smile toyed with her lips as she thought over the evening. The two books, now resting on her night stand, the inscription from Castle… The corner of her mouth tipped up, remembering.

She stared at her phone, faintly visible in the glow of her alarm clock Rolling over, Kate reached for it, tapping out a text message by the dim glow of the display.

_Thank you for the book. It was very thoughtful. _

_—KB_

The cursor blinked at her for a moment, then she smirked, her thumbs again flying over the tiny pads.

_P.S. I totally would have shot you. _

She found the send button by habit and the message was gone. She plumped her pillow before tugging the sheets back over her shoulders. Under her extra pillow, her thumb caressed the smooth steel of her glock as tonight's conversation turned over in her mind.

_You do realize my son is completely crazy about you?_

Her stomach contracted and she bit her lip. Fond? Yes. Attracted? Yes. Completely crazy about her? Richard _Castle_? Her mind drifted over the past several weeks, cataloguing evidence of his persistent pursuit of her, and considering his perspective.

He'd worried about whether she'd choose an abortion. But, what dedicated father wouldn't? He'd bought her panties, trying to renew their flirtation. Admittedly, the sex _was_ hot. He'd been hovering, bringing her water for her Tylenol, and (_God!)_ inviting her to move in! She gave her head a tiny shake, still wondering at his impulsiveness. He'd wanted to ask her out right after they slept together, she remembered. She hadn't given him the chance.

Why not?

She frowned into the darkness as she forced herself to consider the other side; her hidden memory of Richard Castle. Her brow furrowed as she unlocked the moments when the sensory fog lifted and she found herself naked and vulnerable in his arms.

* * *

Only the dim glow from the window illuminated his bedroom as they lay entwined in his bed.

"That was totally worth the wait." He'd murmured into her hair as he'd snuggled his arms around her.

She'd kept her voice neutral, her fingers idly caressing his chest. "Already congratulating yourself on your latest _conquest,_ Castle?" She'd bit her lip, struggling to come to grips with how she'd landed in the bed of a man she'd once sworn never to sleep with.

His voice grew softer as he chuckled. "I never worked so hard to get a woman into bed before." Her hand stilled but he seemed not to notice. He brushed a kiss to her forehead, muttering almost in his sleep, "But, I knew you'd sleep with me eventually." He was too drowsy to notice her stiffen in his arms. It was too dark to see her expression become unexpectedly still.

* * *

In her own bed, Kate twisted around, punching her pillow several times as though seeking escape from the confusing memory. But it rolled over her and through her, like an unpleasant movie without a remote.

* * *

She'd turned away from him then, rolling onto her side, needing to separate her thoughts from the misty new softness between them. She clenched the corner of the comforter as she hesitated on the verge of climbing out of his bed when he followed her. His arm snaked around her waist to snug her closer. His lips brushed the sensitive hollow on the back her neck, as he fit his body against hers.

"Kate," he whispered, his voice trailing off sleepily. "Stay…"

She closed her eyes, her brow beetling. Her lips parted as she sought the right words to call back their rash tumble into the sheets. She was too late. His deep breaths blew against her neck and his arm grew lax. He slept.

* * *

She lay on her belly, fingering the eyelet trim on her pillowcase. She'd already been burned by Castle once. Why was she even _thinking_ about this? Her face felt warm but she hardly noticed.

She guided her thoughts to safer territory. The movie with Martha, how many times did Kate and her mom snuggle under a blanket enjoying the Sound of Music together? And now watching it with Martha, reminded her of those days, but in a good way; without the bitterness. She wondered what it would have been like to share that with Alexis too.

She imagined the three women sharing a blanket and a bowl of popcorn, and giggling together during the commercials. And suddenly Castle intruded on her fantasy, scooting Alexis over to make room next to Kate on the couch. The fantasy Rick winked at Kate, who scowled as she rolled onto her side in bed.

It was happening more and more often. Richard Castle invading her most innermost thoughts the way he'd inserted himself into her professional life a year and a half ago.

The fantasy Martha on the end of the dream couch leaned over to catch Kate's eye. _You do realize my son is completely crazy about you?_ Suddenly it was just the two of them again, as it had been this evening before the movie.

_Do you think so? _She'd answered Martha earlier, hesitant and disbelieving.

_I know my son. _The quiet certainty of Martha's voice again gave Kate pause.

Did Martha know him as well as she thought? Could she be mistaken? Had Castle made an extraordinary ass of himself that night in his bed? Correction, he _had_ been an ass, that wasn't the question. The question was, _is there more?_ _Had_ she managed to capture a piece of his heart along the way?

He still wanted her, no doubt about that. And as a friend—they'd _been_ friends. He just might be an extraordinary father to their child. But, could he sustain a relationship with _her_? Was he capable of more or only romances blossoming into doomed marriages?

She squeezed her eyes tighter. Once she let him in, there'd be no going back. She'd fall—hard!

She couldn't afford another mistake. She couldn't allow his selfishness to return her to that depression of years ago. No matter how sweetly he might invite, no matter how intoxicating the lure of his touch might be _now,_ he'd have to be _all_ in. She'd have to be _certain. Any l_ess than that and she'd be screwed; literally and figuratively.

Moisture pooled in the hollow between her eye and nose before she dashed it away, ignoring the ragged hitch in her breathing.

She stared at the gloomy shadows of her bedroom. Again, she turned over the possibility of Richard Castle in her mind, examining him for evidence on which to balance a best case scenario. There'd be no shortage of fun with him, in bed and out. And his devotion to family was, she considered, endearing _and_ enduring.

She tried to imagine the sanguine writer as a life partner, but as her heart rate slowed, sleep stole through her, weighing her limbs. Her musings increasingly grew into a preoccupation with the laughter so often dancing in his eyes, and an admiration of the chiseled curve of his jaw. The tension seeped out of her muscles as her thoughts returned, as they always did in the moments before sleep claimed her, to remembering the pressure of his hand, gliding over her abdomen, to cup her bottom as he pulled her against him.

Her lips parted as she breathed out a sigh and escaped into oblivion.

* * *

_**Day17:**__ 249 days to go. _

Your baby is now .02 inch long (0.4 mm). Two or three babies the size of yours could fit into the space occupied by this printed period:.

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p16_

* * *

"Mother?"

The answering grunt was wordlessly articulate.

"Did I wake you?"

"Obviously."

"Sorry." Silence followed as Richard Castle cradled his cell phone with both hands and switched ears. He stared out the window almost without seeing the gray light of early morning shrouding his quiet Tribeca neighborhood. "So," he stalled not wanting to ask too baldly, but not willing to delay the conversation. "What did you do last night?" His voice was light, too casual.

"Richard—" Martha groaned and he heard the sleepy rumble of Chet's voice lifted in question. Just a moment," Martha murmured in response. There was another grunt and rustling until her voice came through, peevishly clear. "Richard Castle, are you calling me at seven in the morning just to find out how Kate Beckett liked her books?" she demanded.

"Well—no," Rick hedged, "I called to find out what you did last night." The corner of his mouth tipped up ruefully.

She wasn't fooled. "Ah. Well, Chet and I both arrived home quite late and after making up, went to sleep—er, bed," she clarified.

"And that took all evening?" A line appeared between his brows as he shifted his weight from one side to another.

Her reply was acidly sweet. "Well, after a big fight, making up does take a while. If it's done correctly."

More lines appeared, but he schooled his voice to patience. "Did you see Kate?"

"Kate who?" Her tone was too bland.

"Mother!"

"Well, Really, Darling, there's my neighbor Kate, Kate at the dry cleaners, and Kate _Luyben_ who is only in town for a couple of days and I really ought to—"

Rick frowned irritably. "You know whom I mean."

"Ah." There was a pause. "Kate _Beckett_ and I had a lovely dinner. That little sublet she's got is done up very cute. She _really_ has classy taste."

Rick sighed as he stared around his office. "I'm not interested in the _sublet,_ Mother."

"Oh? You're not? Then why ever did you call me?"

He could almost hear the smug smile in her voice. He gritted his teeth. "Did she like the book?"

"Which one?"

"Both."

"Yes."

"And?"

"And," he could hear his mother puttering around the kitchen, water turning on as she filled the coffee pot. "And she enjoyed the falafel very much, but the hummus less so."

"Glad to hear it," Rick snapped again. "Ryan and Esposito enjoyed the Castello di Amarosa Savigon you left over here. It was quite dry, just the way you—"

"You didn't!"

"Didn't what?" Rick settled in his office chair, a smile teasing at his mouth even as his eyes widened with faux innocence.

"You _didn't_ serve my favorite wine at your poker game!"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" His grin widened.

"Richard, I was saving that for my anniversary with Chet, you _know_ that!" Her volume rose with indignation.

"Well, I didn't exactly serve it—I told the boys to help themselves to the liquor cabinet." With his free hand, Castle reached for a pen from his desktop, clicking it absently. "Ryan has expensive taste—"

"She loved it." Her words were clipped with lingering irritation.

"She did?" Rick straightened in his chair, the pen forgotten in his hand.

"She said it was very sweet, and the journal as well."

Rick was silent a moment, his face split with a grin. The clicking resumed again as he sat back in his chair. "What else did you talk about?"

"What? Richard, really!"

"Did she ask about me?" His eyes slid across the bookshelf loaded with Naked Heat hardbacks.

"I am _not_ going to repeat our conversation to you!" Martha stated firmly.

He never missed a beat. "Do you think she'll move in?"

"Richard! We never even discussed it."

"Oh." His eyes dropped to the floor as the pen stilled in his hand. "But you talked about me?" Was there a hint of insecurity in his voice?

If there was, Martha missed it. "Why are you being so nosey?"

His voice deepened persuasively. "I _know_ you talked about me! What did she say?"

"I am not going to repeat—"

"C'mon!" The pen clicks resumed at a frantic rate.

An exasperated sigh came over the phone. "We did not _discuss_ your relationship at all. However,"

Rick froze, waiting, completely focused on his mother's voice echoing over the phone. "However?" he prompted.

"However, I may have _volunteered_ some information." There was a note of quiet satisfaction that should have alerted Castle to danger.

He frowned. "Volunteered?" he repeated, his tone leaving no illusions as to his feelings.

"Yes." Martha's voice was almost chipper now. Clearly she enjoyed the upper hand. "I explained to Kate that you are _completely_ in love with her." He could hear the smile in her voice.

Castle gasped, nearly dropping the phone. "What did you say that for?" He was on his feet, the pen falling to the floor, forgotten.

"What? Why shouldn't I tell her that?" Martha was all innocence.

He was aghast, "Well, because—b—because_ I never said that!" _

"Aren't you?"

Rick's eyes widened, as he stumbled over his response. "I—I—That's not the point!"

"Well if it's true than I saved you the trouble of declaring yourself." Her tone was brisk, all business.

"What if it's _not_ true?" he demanded scowling. "Or what if she—she takes advantage—"

"I was under the impression you rather enjoy being _taken advantage of_ by beautiful women," she drawled sarcastically.

"That's—That's not the point," he spluttered.

He could almost see her eyes flash, as she answered, "I'll tell you exactly what the point is, Mr. Castle. You are prying into a private conversation and what was said there is _none of your concern_." Her tone was kind but firm as she gave special emphasis to the last few words.

"I'm _very_ concerned—about my mother meddling in my relationships!"

Martha's low chuckle gave her away.

Rick gasped, "Oh! You're toying with me aren't you?"

"Richard," Martha sounded tired.

The leather chair gave a soft squeak as he fell back into it, a relieved smile on his face. "You really had me for a moment."

"Richard," Martha explained, speaking slowly for emphasis. "Kate Beckett is alone and pregnant. You might consider her feelings before you go poking your nose into her business. And you might consider _my _privacy as well."

He took a deep breath. "You're right, Mother. I'm sorry for prying."

"Apology accepted."

There was a beat of silence. "Mother,"

"Yes?"

His face softened, smoothing the lines from his forehead. "Thank you for being there for her."

"You're welcome, Richard. But I didn't do it for you. At least, not _just_ for you."

He closed his eyes for a moment while a slow smile spread across his face. "I know. You did it for her. I'm glad she has a friend in you." His voice was quiet. His brow furrowed as he stared out the window of his office. "One more thing…" he began.

"Yes, Darling?"

"You didn't _really_ tell her I'm—that I'm in love with her." It was there in his tone, low and vulnerable.

There was a low chuckle. "Ask Kate."

"Mother—" he began, but the phone clicked off. "Damn!" He snapped his phone shut.

* * *

**_Author's Note: _**

_Trouble is still coming. Also in chapter 15, Ryan and Esposito._

_How did you like it? Please make my day. Tell me about your favorite parts. Write a Review! (I love hearing from you!)_


	15. Poker Faces

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

_**Author's Note, November 10, 2010:**_

Feeling a little frustrated with chapters 16 and 17 so I posted a little moment you will hopefully see in chapter 17 or 18. I hope you enjoy it! Look for As Good As On Paper TEASER.

Don't look for chapter 16 anytime within the next seven days.

* * *

_**Author's Note, November 6, 2010:**_

_I'm getting excited about chapters 16 & 17! Yes, I'm working on both, which means you might be waiting a bit longer for chapter 16, but 17 will follow more closely than usual. Everyone likes that, right? The final number of chapters will probably be in the mid twenties._

_There are four busy, wonderful ladies who are very generous with their time reading my drafts and giving me feedback. To those ladies, thank you very much! It's very important to me to get it right and your feedback is such a help to me. Thank you._

_More news later..._

* * *

_**Author's Note, October 19, 2010:**_

_Special thanks to Nerwen for suggesting Esposito's response to the cherry discussion, and to _all_ my betas, yet again._

_For those who might have missed it, on October 10__th__, a deleted scene was posted under as Chapter 3 on As Good As On Paper TEASERS. You can find it fastest from my profile._

___Life has been very, very busy, but as always, I'm hoping to update faster next time. __Blessings._

* * *

_**POKER FACES**_

**_Chapter Fifteen_**

_**Day 20:**__ 246 days to go._

_The next thirty days mark a critical period in the development of your baby's heart._

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p18_

* * *

_**LONGING**_

"Where's Castle?" Esposito met Beckett at the door of a tiny church, hugged on three sides by a giant complex of condominiums.

"I don't know. I keep getting his voicemail." Beckett shrugged and he held the church door open. She scanned the foyer as she entered, nodding to a uniform who was trying to calm a distraught woman.

"What? You tellin' me you're not living in each other's pockets by now?" He teased.

Her lips thinned perceptibly. "That's right, Esposito. We aren't dating, and it wouldn't be any of your business if we were." She flicked her hair off her shoulder as she paused outside the chapel doors. "Are you going to give me the rundown or do I need to find Ryan?" There was an edge to her voice. She ignored his grin and looked around.

He flipped his notebook open. "Vic's a black male, 42. Greg Murray, senior pastor of this church for two years. Church secretary, Mona Kirland, says she arrived at 8:05 a.m. and noticed the church office was unlocked. His door was open so she went looking for him. Found his body in the chapel. Called 9-1-1 at 8:09 a.m." He indicated the wide double doors standing open off the foyer.

Pausing just within the chapel, Kate took in the scene. The body sprawled near a baby grand on the rostrum. Lanie knelt beside him, taking notes.

Walking up the center aisle, she noted a sheaf of music and several children's music books scattered beneath the piano. Overturned chairs indicated a struggle. One, mere inches from the body, was upside down on the low stage. A single candlestick adorned the worship center at the back of the rostrum. A figure of Christ, his hands spread wide presided over an open Bible. Kate paused to take it all in and glanced at the open page, noting the first scripture, _Thou shalt not kill._ Her lips twitched. Castle would appreciate the irony.

Where was he anyway?

She eyed a candle taper lying along the wall and asked, "What have you got for me, Lanie?"

"Blunt force trauma. Several blows to the head, here and here." A graceful latex covered finger indicated the general areas. "This is the one that killed him." She tapped the back of the man's head where blood matted the kinky hair. "I'd say the time of death was last night, between four and ten. I'll have a better estimate when I get him to the morgue. The vic has scratches on his face and abrasions on his knuckles." She indicated the victim's right hand.

"He hit someone," Beckett mused.

She nodded. "Someone with fingernails."

"You think the killer was female?" Esposito surveyed the chapel, checking for other signs of struggle.

"Hard to say for sure, but it's likely."

Ryan appeared at Beckett's elbow. "Maybe it was a bloke in drag."

Lanie glanced up from her work. "In a church?"

Esposito raised his brows suggestively, "Maybe it's one of _those_ kinds of churches!"

Ryan chuckled, glancing over at the main doors, "Where's Castle? He's gonna _love_ this one!"

"No idea." Beckett's tone was sharper than necessary, and for a second she bit down on her lower lip. "Any idea what the murder weapon was?"

"See these contusions here? And this gash? It appears to be something hard like metal, and knobby, but it had an edge too. I'm suspicious of that candlestick over there." Lanie nodded to the single taper set in a silver candle holder.

"Worship center look a little off balance to you?"

"It does indeed, Bro."

"Alright, tag the candles and the holder as evidence. Don't forget the sheet music. Make sure you get both candles. And dust the Bible for finger prints."

Ryan blinked. "You think the killer was…" he frowned, trying to fit the pieces together, "religious?"

"I'm not ruling anything—"

"Hey!"

"—out." Kate' voice trailed off as she turned to see Castle walking toward her.

"Castle!" Ryan called.

"My man!"

Beckett watched the patches of light playing over his face as he walked toward them. He caught her eye and she glanced away. His eyes seemed bluer than usual, and his grin threatened to turn her insides to warm mush. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave her head a little shake as though to clear it.

"Where you _been_ all week?"

"Appointments. Luckily, close by." He gestured in the general direction of downtown with a large paper cup.

"Thought maybe you were gonna be out all week, blowing your winnings." Esposito took in the matching cups without comment, slapping Castle on the shoulder.

"Winnings," Castle scoffed, "That was pocket change. You want to talk about winnings—"

"Murder." Beckett interrupted, "Let's talk about murder.

He handed her one of the teas, earning him a small smile, which he missed as he scanned the crime scene. "A church is a strange place for a killing. Robbery gone bad?"

"I'll say it was robbery. _Three aces_ is what I was holding!"

Castle grinned at Ryan. "Care for a rematch?"

"Get over it Ryan," Beckett snapped. "If it were only a robbery, the thief would have tried to run. The victim probably knew the killer. Esposito, does the church secretary have an alibi?"

"Check."

"Alright, I'm going to need a list of everyone Murray saw yesterday. All of his appointments, phone records, and I want to talk with his next of kin. See if the church has a visitor registry, and run down any recent visitors to the church." She scanned the sanctuary, but it was Ryan who voiced her thought,

"There's got to be DNA samples and prints for a hundred to two hundred people here. We going to interview them all?"

"No, Ryan. Not _we. _You." His face fell and Esposito smirked until, "You and Esposito better get busy."

This time it was Castle who smirked. "And don't forget to grab the security footage."

"Missing, Bro. Already checked."

"Ah. So our killer was familiar with the church's security system." A well-known gleam appeared in Castle's eye as he turned to Beckett. "A disgruntled member asks for a handout. Perhaps one more in a long string of handouts. The pastor refuses. Psycho pulls a Jean Val Jean, and decides to rob the church where he'd been sheltered from his dark past. The pastor interrupts _Val Jean_ in the midst of the robbery, and when he tried to stop him, it gets out of hand…"

Beckett's eyes narrowed, "Is Martha auditioning for Les Mis?"

Castle froze, his mouth open. "Ah, no. I was rereading the novel last night." A sheepish smile crossed his face. "Couldn't sleep."

"Delusional parishioners aside," Beckett continued as though he'd never spoken, "it was more likely …

"A church employee." Castle and Beckett finished in unison, their eyes met and held for an instant longer than necessary. A smile played over his lips. She turned back to Esposito, and ignoring his knowing look asked, "Contact info for the next of kin?"

"Girlfriend is on her way. But the church secretary is waiting in the conference room."

She moved back down the center aisle, and Castle fell into step beside her. She could feel his eyes on her and her cheeks grew warm.

"Rough week for the congregation. Church on Sunday, murder on Monday…"

"It's _Wednesday." _

"The reader doesn't know that."

"This _isn't_ one of your books."

"—Yet!"

She let it slide and shot him an amused glance, warming to his half-smile. "Nice of you to show up, Castle?"

He gave her that sideways grin she loved, "Did you miss me?"

She allowed a tiny smile. "Were you gone?"

"You—" he was interrupted by his phone ringing. He checked the display, "Ah," I'm going to have to take this." He turned away. "Castle."

Beckett hesitated, her hand on the church office door, watching him. Waiting.

"Yes." He listened and when he spoke again, he sounded noticeably more excited. "Now? Yes, yes, I'll be right over." He closed his phone with a snap and turned back to her, his eyes alight with excitement, but clouding over as he met her gaze. "That was—" He slid his phone into his jacket pocket. "I can't stay." The silence that followed was awkward. "I'm sorry."

"Sure." Dropping her gaze, she swallowed and took a deep breath. She met his eyes, trying for a careless smile, as her hand slid down to rest on the door handle. "I'll, uh, see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He turned to leave, but the spring in his step was missing. Watching him go, Beckett bit her lip and entered the office.

* * *

**_Day 26:_**_ 240 days to go._

_The aorta of the baby's heart is beginning to form. The baby's length is now (crown to rump) 3-5 mm._

_Selecting a practitioner is an extremely important task. You need to weigh many considerations as you choose the person who will direct the medical course of your pregnancy and attend the birth of your baby._

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy, p21_

* * *

_**PERSPECTIVE**_

The gift bag was just one more reminder.

It lay on its side in the dust under her bed where she'd kicked it in a rare fit of temper. This morning, she'd brushed aside the bed skirt and the gift bag came with her pump, a white ribbon handle looped over the heel.

Kate sighed, staring at the distinctive L P Design, remembering the morning twelve days past. It had been bad enough he'd bought her the panties. Bad enough he'd gifted them _at the precinct_. He couldn't give her just any panties either. No, they had to be _La Perla_. Worse, they had to bear… Shaking her head, she disengaged the heel from the ribbon handle as she sat back, considering the bag.

Were the panties as hot as she remembered? She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Unwillingly, her hand found its way into the narrow opening, retrieving the scrap of black fabric. She spread them between her hands, admiring the back, which was not quite a thong. The detail, the fine fabrics… So like him to choose a gift for her with irresistible taste _and_ sex appeal. She found the cardboard tag, searching for his name again.

_La Perla Lingerie_ the tag said. And underneath those words, _Castle Key Design. _She shook her head with a rueful smile. That was like him as well. Of all the panties in Manhattan, he had to find her the one pair which bore his name.

She'd been infuriated, throwing the gift bag—panties and all—in the trash. Then she'd changed her mind and kicked it under the bed while contemplating whether to trash them outright or donate them to a second hand clothes closet. That morning, she'd been determined to move on and get him permanently off her mind.

Of course, that was _before_ the pregnancy test.

Kate rubbed the fabric between two fingers, uncertain if she wanted to be rid of them now. Of course, she wasn't sure of anything when it came to Richard Castle. Or why she rarely saw him anymore. He claimed to have _appointments, _but—She missed him.

Staring at the panties he'd given her, she swallowed against a lump in her throat, remembering his sexy half smile, the crazy theories he spun as he followed her through the bull pen, hoping to earn her smile or attention.

He'd made it to exactly one crime scene since she'd told him she needed space. Her brow furrowed and her lips tightened. Had he given up on her? Had he found someone else? He claimed he was just busy, but why all the secrecy? Wouldn't he have explained if it was his book keeping him away? He always had before.

Unless—she bit her lip as she shoved the panties back into the bag. Unless it _was _someone else. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to notice how her belly clenched at the thought.

What else could it be? He had a _business manager_ to handle details for him. He hadn't been to a crime scene since that church with the funny name. She hadn't so much as laid eyes on him since last Thursday.

Rising, she slid her feet into her pumps and stared at the gift bag; not any more certain what she wanted to do with the panties now than she'd been that morning. Her heart felt like a hot achy lump in her chest.

Sighing, she set the sack on her dresser. "At least _tell _me what's going on," she muttered as she selected a jacket from her closet.

* * *

_SECRETS_

Detective Esposito flipped through the morning Ledger, looking for the sports stats, only half listening to Ryan's rant about the pros and cons of Brett Favre as a fantasy football quarterback. He hesitated, a frown growing on his dark features as he slowly laid the newspaper on the break room table and spread it out, staring intently.

"What are you looking at?" Ryan broke off mid rant and leaned around Esposito for a look. "Holy shift." He tugged the paper a little closer and as they both read the headline and stared at the picture.

"Son of a bitch." Esposito growled.

"She's gonna flip." Ryan shook his head, scanning the short article below the picture.

"She'll never take him now. He's history," his partner agreed.

_"Take him?_ She's more likely to _castrate_ him." He shook his head.

"Wonder when they broke up. Y'think that's why he hasn't been around?" Esposito stared at the smiling man in the picture.

"They aren't dating."

Esposito snorted. "That's all _you_ know."

"Dude, they're _not _dating," Ryan insisted. "She's pregnant, but they're _definitely_ not together."

Esposito couldn't hide a laugh at Ryan's density. "_Pregnant?_ Where do you come up with these? You're as bad as _Castle_."

Ryan scowled at his partner. "Dude, Beckett _is_ pregnant, and I'm pretty sure Castle's the father."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Twenty says she's not." Esposito crossed his arms.

"You're on." Ryan began ticking his reasons off on his fingers as the two men squared off. "They don't drink coffee anymore."

Esposito's mouth dropped open but Ryan raised a hand to forestall his argument.

"Not for about two weeks. Instead they're both getting their caffeine fix from _tea. _The last time we all went out, Castle _drank_ that god-awful spinach margarita to give Beckett an out on hers. As if _that_ wasn't enough, Beckett was ordering _virgin_ margaritas for herself, regular for Castle." Ryan paused to take a breath.

Esposito's arms slowly unfolded as Ryan was speaking. He stared at his partner, his jaw slack.

"Besides," Ryan took another swallow of coffee. "Beckett's had a wardrobe change. All of a sudden she's wearing loose flowy tops and hiding her tummy behind her folders. Everyone knows that's hiding a pregnancy." He winked at Esposito and then grinned to see his partner at a loss for words.

Esposito put his hands on his hips, glaring at Ryan. "How'd you know, Bro? How'd you figure it out when I had _no_ idea?"

Ryan smirked, cocking a brow. I'm a detective." He took another swallow and then a sudden step back as Esposito punched him in the arm. He grabbed a napkin to wipe the coffee that spilled over his cup's edge. "Besides my sister just had a baby. She couldn't handle coffee either."

"How'd you know the margaritas were virgin?"

"Cherry."

"How's that?"

"They serve virgin margaritas with a cherry." Ryan shrugged, and then sighed at Esposito's blank look. "Virgins have cherries, virgin margaritas have cherries… It's a common practice." He shrugged again.

"That's sick, Bro." Esposito scowled again, and crossed his arms. "And the _tea?"_

"I noticed the day Castle spewed it all over my shoes. That and_… _when Beckett was out sick, he completely _freaked_ when I used the phrase _got rid of it."_ He raised a brow significantly and his cup to hide his smirk.

Esposito stared at his partner for a moment and then shook his head, "I can't believe you didn't tell me, Bro."

"Yeah, well," Ryan coughed delicately. "I'm not the only one keeping secrets around here." He cast a sideways glance at Esposito and then his tone changed completely. "Speaking of, here comes _your_ walking, talking secret now."

"What's that?" Esposito looked up to spot Lanie entering the break room. He straightened instantly, "Hey, Dr. Parish. To what do we owe the pleasure?" His smile was a bit too wide.

"Hey, Lanie." Ryan smirked.

"Hey," She greeted them both. "I'm in need of some _real_ coffee, Javie. Hook me up."

"Sure." Esposito grabbed a mug from the cupboard and began loading fresh grounds into the press. "So how long have you known about Beckett and Castle?" His tone was deliberately casual.

Lanie's eyes widened. "Beckett and Castle?"

"Yeah, and the baby."

"What?"

The corner's of Esposito's mouth turned down at her lukewarm response. He reattached the press to the cappuccino machine and turned toward her, lowering his voice as he stepped closer, "C'mon. She told us this morning. Don't pretend you don't know."

"And what makes you think I'll just _tell you_ what I _might_ know?" Lanie cocked her head slightly, giving him _the look. _She met his eyes and then gave a little sigh and her face softened a bit. "And that's assuming I know _anything._ You _know_ how Beckett is about her private life."

"I didn't ask how they hooked up. I asked how long you've known." Esposito turned back to the cappuccino machine, shaking his head as though mystified at the workings of the female mind.

Lanie glanced over at Ryan who appeared to be reading the notices posted on the bulletin board.

Esposito stirred the frothy milk into the mug. "You see Castle's pic in the Ledger yet?"

"Castle's in the Ledger?" This time, her voice was raised in surprise. He handed her a mug and then pointed to the newspaper, still open on the table. Her long hair fell forward, hiding her face as she leaned over for a closer look. "Son of a bitch!"

"Pretty much."

"Exactly what I said." Esposito nodded in satisfaction.

Slowly, she raised her head to stare at Esposito, her brown eyes huge. "Has _Beckett_ seen this?"

The detectives exchanged a glance, shifting their weight and staring at the floor. "Not that we know of," Esposito answered.

She's in a meeting with the Cap. I—don't know…" Ryan's voice trailed off.

"This must be where Castle's been spending all his time lately." she murmured, staring at the picture.

Ryan nodded from across the room.

"So they're not dating?"

Lanie planted a fist on one hip and cocked a brow as she regarded Esposito. "I thought she told you this morning."

"Yeah, about the baby. She wouldn't say what's going on with _Castle_."

Lanie gave a delicate snort. "As if she knew." She sipped her coffee. "Beckett's so confused about Castle right now _she_ doesn't even _know_ what she wants."

Ryan turned to watch his partner and Lanie. Esposito was completely still, waiting. There was a long silence before he prompted, "Yeah?"

She sipped at her coffee then leaned forward, studying the photo again.

"She sounded pretty certain about keeping the baby." Esposito worked to keep his voice offhand.

"Seems that way."

Ryan flashed a triumphant grin to Esposito, who lounged against the counter, ignoring him.

"So how long have you known?"

"A couple of weeks." Lanie took another sip and set the cup down. "Since Beckett found out anyway." She hesitated and then sighed, "She was hiding in the bathroom, trying to figure out what she was going to tell Castle, who was hovering outside the door with his heart on his sleeve." She shook her head remembering.

A heavy silence followed, into which Ryan stretched his open palm.

"Frak!" Esposito whipped his wallet out and slapped a twenty across it as Lanie's eyes narrowed.

"You—" She swiped the bill out of Ryan's hand and held it up, her eyes flashing as she rounded on Esposito accusingly, "Beckett _didn't_ tell you did she?"

He took an involuntary step aside, "Lanie, I—"

She took a step toward him, stuffing the money inside her scrubs. "I'm gonna smack you, pumping me like that."

Ryan grinned openly at Esposito, who scowled at his predicament. "Don't feel bad, Lanie, It's our job to get info out of people who don't want to share it." He sidled over to Lanie with a nervous glance at the neckline of her scrubs, and back to Esposito, "Can I—Can I have my money now?"

She looked him up and down. "You going in after it, Ryan?" She gave him a level look, then turned away. "Didn't think so." She cast a dark look at Esposito. You did _not_ hear about this from _me!_" Lanie dumped her coffee in the sink and was about to leave when Esposito grabbed her arm.

"Lanie, wait." He hesitated, his hand lingering, looking down at her with a complicated expression.

She looked down at his hand and gave him the eye, "Yes?"

"Beckett." Ryan turned in surprise as Kate entered the room. "How's the Cap?" His tone was carefully neutral as he hurriedly gathered the newspaper into a semblance of order.

She wasn't fooled. "Hey guys." Her eyes narrowed, as she noted Esposito's stare, and his hand falling away from Lanie's arm. With perfect poise, Beckett refilled her mug and set it in the microwave to heat. As it whirred behind her, she turned, tasting the tension and observing each of her friends in turn. A heavy silence hung between them. "What is it?"

* * *

_Which part did you like best? Least? Other comments? Please write a quick review!_


	16. Double KnockOff

_**Author's Note, December 3, 2010**_

_At last! _

_I cannot even begin to tell you how hard I worked to get this up promptly. Part of the delay is always life. But most of it was the story. The murder mystery I introduced in chapter 15 is playing a much bigger role in this part of the story and it complicates the story-telling. You may wish to brush up on the church murder scene from the last chapter. Chapters 15-18 (I expect) will be dealing with it. _

_Here's more good news, **Chapter 17 is almost done **and, at 4,500 words, is the longest yet! Give me a week to polish it up! _

_As always, thanks to my beta readers for their patience and readings. _

* * *

_**DOUBLE KNOCK-OFF**_

**Chapter Sixteen**

_**Day 27:**__ 239 days to go. _

_By now the arm buds have appeared and a tiny liver has formed._

_Your first prenatal visit involves a complete physical examination, an assessment of pregnancy symptoms, a number of laboratory tests such as tests for sexually transmitted diseases, cervical cancer, anemia, and other conditions, as well as protection against rubella and blood type—and the compiling of a complete medical and health history. _

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p21_

* * *

Yawning, Beckett carried her steaming mug back to the bull pen, her eyes widening at the unexpected appearance of the extra murder board. It didn't get used a whole lot. As much as she hated to admit it, since Castle joined her team, she rarely needed a third board.

Her frown deepened as she rounded the corner and spotted Ryan clipping a ragged newspaper article under the label of _Motive_. She came to an abrupt halt as she recognized it from yesterday's paper, the one about Castle. Ryan slapped a second photo of hand cuffs up next to it.

"What is _this?_"

"Murder board," Esposito answered from his desk.

"I know _that._ Why is _this_ up here?" She gestured at the article, not looking at it directly.

"Motive." Esposito took Ryan's place at the board, who hurried away.

"Motive?" Beckett repeated, crossing her arms. She gave him a flat stare. "Motive for _what?"_

He grinned at her. "Motive for a murder that hasn't been committed yet."

She opened her mouth to respond and shut it again.

Ryan reappeared and began arranging a stack of photos in a cluster in the corner. Esposito looked over his shoulder. "Band saw, industrial blender… What's that one, Bro?"

"Roto-tiller." Ryan glanced up at him, "You've never lived outside the city have you?"

He shook his head while Ryan titled the grouping of photos with red letters, _Possible_ _Murder Weapons._

Beckett hid a smirk behind her hand, the other on her hip. "Guys, what are you doing?"

"We need a photo of the vic."

"On it." Ryan disappeared.

Esposito turned back to Beckett. "Just prepping a little message for Castle."

"Really." She ducked her chin slightly as she stared at him. "A message saying _what_ exactly?"

"Hang on."

Ryan reappeared with a photo of Castle, the one from the back of Heat Wave that inevitably gave her a heat rush when it caught her unawares. He titled the photo, _Victim. _"There we go."

The two men stepped back to survey their masterpiece. "Needs somethin'." Esposito picked up a red marker and drew a circle on Castle's nose and concentric circles radiating toward the edges of the photo.

"_What_ are you doing?" The corners of her mouth twitched. "Targeting Castle for _murder_?"

Ryan reached for the black marker to further amend Castle's portrait.

"I like it." Grinning, Esposito turned back to Beckett. "Like I said, Boss, just prepping a message for Castle. Why don't you let us handle this?" He winked, stating clearly, we_ got your back._

Looking from one to the other a tiny smile finally reached her eyes. She shook her head as her desk phone rang. She called over her shoulder, "I didn't see _anything."_

"Beckett," she answered.

* * *

Kate appreciated the boys trying cheer her up with a show of solidarity. But the murder board was just another reminder of the sick feeling that seemed to take permanent residence in her belly the moment she saw the article.

She'd leaned against the break room counter, waiting to see which of her friends would meet her eyes. Ryan hovered near the table, a rumpled newspaper in his hands, and Esposito stood _very_ close to Lanie, who didn't seem to mind his hand on her arm.

That wasn't what tipped her off. From the moment she entered the room, an unnatural stillness came over them. Almost as though she were a skittish doe, liable to flee if they made a sudden move. Ryan looked everywhere but at her. It was Lanie and Esposito whose gazes were steady.

"What is it?" She addressed the question to Lanie, who stared at her, her face a picture of compassionate distress.

"It's Castle," she answered, slowly, unhappily.

Beckett frowned and took several steps toward Ryan, reaching for the paper. He handed it over. "What am I looking for?" She asked him.

"Ummm…"

It was Esposito who answered, "Page Six."

For just a second, her hands stilled. Her eyes closed for a heartbeat and then opened them, mindful of her audience. She turned to the page in question. It was there, slightly above the fold on the right.

They were waiting for her reaction, but Kate was determined to show them how little she cared how Castle spent his time away from the precinct—or who shared his bed, if it came to that.

He looked good. The tux jacket was cut slightly shorter than ones she'd seen him wear previously, drawing attention to the breadth of his shoulders. He was smiling too, the sultry half smile she loved—when it was directed at _her_. His eyes were half closed as he looked down at a brunette whose red dress showed off her abundant curves.

The seductive look directed at Castle did nothing to shield her identity, although her profile was all that was visible to the camera. It was enough. Were it not, the bold headline would have removed any doubt of his date's identity. **Castle_ & Monroe Heat Up The Hardwick Awards. _**She could not prevent the gasp on recognizing the movie star, Ellie Monroe, on his arm.

_This_ woman was on his arm again last night? The bottom fell out of her stomach as she remembered her own intuition nattering away at her last spring. She'd _known _Monroe's play for Castle's attention was too obvious. Arguments had followed, about whether Ellie was more interested in _him_ or playing Nikki Heat in the Heat Wave movie. Had Castle begun passing off their trysts as _business appointments?_ Making excuses to Kate while hiding his renewed affair with Ellie?

She stared at the write up while comprehending nothing of what she read, making a heroic attempt at stoicism. If only her hands weren't shaking so badly, rattling the paper as she attempted to fold it neatly to hand back to Ryan—who was now inspecting the ceiling tiles. Esposito moved to her elbow to gently take the newspaper from her shaking hands carefully refolding it, while Lanie…

"If you're quite through with your _hero worship_, we have work to do." Beckett's voice held only the tiniest tremor. "Esposito, check with the homeless shelter, and find out if Alexa Hawlley was there during the entire time frame. Ryan, pull Hawlley's financials and figure out a timeline for the week of Murray's death."

"Shall I send uniforms to bring her in?"

Beckett shook her head. "Let's see if her alibi holds water first."

Outwardly composed, Beckett watched the boys take their coffee cups and disappear into the bull pen, leaving the women alone. Her movements were stiff as she took a deep breath and tucked her long, dark hair behind her ear.

Lanie hadn't moved or spoken since Kate took the newspaper from Ryan.

Beckett's voice was low and rough. "Did you need something, Lanie?" She didn't meet her friend's eyes as she turned back to the microwave, removing her mug.

Lanie took a deep breath. "Is it possible that maybe this isn't what it looks like?"

Kate gave a single vigorous shake of her head, closing her eyes as she raised her hand as though pushing the unwelcome topic away.

Lanie, staring at Kate's hunched shoulders, got the message. "Honey, I—Give me a call if you want to talk, or go to lunch, maybe." Kate gave a stiff nod and Lanie moved to leave. She hesitated in the doorway, watching her friend. With a shake of her head she was gone.

* * *

_**Day 27 Continued…**_

Rick stepped off the elevator, the ever-present insulated cups in either hand. His lips curved in a smile, but he paused in the hallway, shifting his shoulders slightly and schooling his face to a neutral expression, although he could not completely wipe away the smile from his eyes or the spring from his step. He hurried into the bull pen, the corners of his lips threatening to curve upward again until he paused, several paces into the homicide hub of the twelfth precinct, the last traces of the smile disappearing entirely.

"Damn." He glanced around. Even Captain Montgomery's office was empty, the lights off as though he had not been in yet. He scanned the break room window as he set the cups on Beckett's desk, glancing around again before he reached for his phone. He was about to dial when something caught his eye. He retraced his steps, approaching the smaller murder board in the corner, his brow furrowed.

"What the—" He stared at the bulls eye drawn in red over his Heat Wave Portrait, baffled by the pointy black goatee and mustache. He rubbed them off with his thumb.

Then he noticed the heading over it. _Victim._ He stepped back, taking in the fully arrayed murder board, His mouth gaping at the handcuffs, the_ article._ He clenched his jaw shut again, still frowning. His eyebrows raised as he took in the cluster of photos titled _Possible_ _Murder Weapons. _His gaze lingered on the rototiller before he noticed the second clump under _Suspects_. Esposito, Ryan, and Lanie stared back at him, unsmiling. His eyes traveled over the murder board, unnerved at how the suspects' eyes seemed to watch him.

Taking a deep breath, Castle stepped up to the murder board, leaning over to examine the newspaper clipping under the label of _Motive_. He frowned at the article and shook his head,

He turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. "Hey, Stegner,"

The uniform looked up from the folder in her hands, her eyes widening on recognition. "Castle. Hey. It's been a while."

"A bit, he agreed, turning up the charm and forcing a grin, "Have you seen Beckett?"

"She was in this morning till she got called to another crime scene."

His mouth dropped open in dismay, "She—what? She got called to a crime scene?"

"Yeah. See ya." Stegner continued on her way.

Alone again. "Damn." After one last sweep of the murder board, he turned away, punching the speed dial on his phone.

"Beckett."

Castle's involuntary smile at her voice was fleeting. "Hey." His voice was deeper than usual, and quieter.

"Castle?" Her tone was reserved, even for her. "This is unexpected." Was that strain beneath the layers of self-control?

"Is it?" Castle stared at the bullpen floor, his brow furrowed. "You didn't return my call yesterday."

"I was busy." She hedged.

"Doing what?"

He could almost see the snarky set of her jaw, "I had _appointments_."

He didn't bite. "I'm at the precinct. I—had a break in my schedule, and… I thought, maybe, I could take you to lunch." His voice trailed off.

Beckett didn't bother hiding her surprise. "Really. Lunch."

"Yes, it involves sitting down and eating. For _most_ people, it's the second meal of the day. You should try it." He leaned against the edge of Ryan's desk. "Of course, I didn't _realize_ you were at a _crime scene_." He scowled at the mock murder board. "Since when do you process crime scenes without _me_?"

He could hear the smirk in her voice, "Since you _quit showing up!"_

"What do you mean? You _said_ you wanted _space_!"

"Not—Not _professionally!_" Beckett spluttered.

An awkward pause followed and Castle smiled to himself. "Where are you?"

"On my way back to the precinct."

Castle straightened abruptly. He had to work at keeping his voice neutral. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She sighed, "The boys are canvassing the area for eye witnesses, and I've got some warrants to get signed before an interview this afternoon."

"Kate," The tender use of her first name surprised even him, and in the pause that followed, he heard a tiny gasp over the phone. He smiled. "I missed you." Still smiling, he clicked his phone off.

* * *

_You know I love hearing what you think! Don't worry. I can take it! Review?_


	17. Castle's Leading Lady

_**January 27, 2011**_

Dear Reader,

My current plan is to finish the dang story before I do anymore publishing. That way you all can get most of the waiting done in one fell swoop! However, I published chapter 1 of a new story_ Sitting in a Tree, Backwards_. Don't worry,_ As Good As On Paper_ is still the priority.

In the meantime... Did you notice how close I am to 500 reviews? Squee!

Bren

* * *

_**January 7, 2011**_

_Dear Reader,_

_After working on chapter 19, I'm now organizing my notes for the final push that will take us to the end of the story. I'll let you know when I get closer to publishing, but as of yet, chapter 18 is not even begun. _

* * *

_**January 4, 2011**_

Dear Reader,

Happy New Year to my most dedicated readers! I'm hoping to settle into writing soon, but I'm having a bit of trouble.

While reviewing my notes I happened upon an important detail. After Castle figures out he's in love with Beckett, he was supposed to _hide_. You know, avoid phone calls, hang out under his comforter with a fifth of scotch; not ready to face the woman of his dreams _as_ the woman of his dreams. But no, Mr. Romantic Lead comes back to the precinct to woo his love. Dammit. I hate it when characters disobey me. What fun is writing if total domination is unsuccessful? :-)

And just to make sure that's no confusion, I am referring to _this _chapter, #17, where he _dared _disobey the writer. Considering how rarely he obeys Beckett, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised. Oh, and speaking of didn't you love last night's episode?

The other thing that is troubling me is I never actually _planned _breakfast on Saturday to be a pivotal scene. And I think many of my readers are _expecting _it to be pivotal. So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to write it as I'd planned, to please myself. Some of you may be initially disappointed, but I think you'll find certain forthcoming scenes *very* satisfying. But they won't be in chapter 18, or probably even 20. We're getting there. I promise. Closer all the time.

In the meantime, I've got a second draft done on Beckett and Daddy having a heart to heart, you'll probably see it around chapter 20.

_Bren_

* * *

_**December 12, 2010**_

_Dear Mr. Marlowe,_

_Thank you. Thank you for the show Castle, it rocks. Thank you for loaning your characters to geeky fanfic writer's like me. We have no life, and it's so nice for us to pretend we have their lives for a few minutes… or hours, or (in my case) eons. And most of all, thank you for releasing the upcoming *spoiler* pic on the same day I published my reintroduction of Ellie Monroe into my story. You've no idea the amount of hate mail—er, hate reviews you saved me! ;-)_

_In all seriousness, I don't own these characters, I just borrow them for fun. My profoundest thanks to my husband for his unending patience with my obsessive hobby, as well as the unending readings and discussions. Also to Nerwen Aldarion, Corlando, Nathan Fan and Gilmoradict who are so generous with beta reading, rereading, and feedback._

_Again, thank you for the reviews as well as the _Hurry up!_ notes! Especially you, Ignacio. Now just turn yourself around and review chapter 15 before you read another word, thank you very much! _:)

_This is the longest yet, so enjoy it! Don't look for news on the next update before New Years! Mysteries take longer and I've got a nephew and brand new niece to dandle on my knee for the first time!_

_Merry Christmas!_

* * *

_**CASTLE'S LEADING LADY**_

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

**_Day 27 Continued…_**

Stegner paused enroute to the cappuccino machine and inhaled deeply. "You think this is up for grabs? I'm starved."

Karpowski surveyed the table with one hand planted on a hip. "Food left unprotected on the break room table? I'm thinking… _yes_." She pulled a carton toward her. "Nice of him to set the table for us. "

"He even _cleaned_ it!" Stegner abandoned her mug on the kitchen counter, hovering at Karpowski's elbow to peer at the contents.

"Thank, God! I wouldn't –"

Castle appeared in the doorway._ "Hey! What are you doing?"_

"Hey, Castle, just getting a bite. Want some?"

"Yes—No! That's mine!" He reached for the take out carton.

Karpowski didn't let go, "Hey man, you left food on the break room table. It's fair game."

"No it isn't! I'm just waiting for Beckett—"

Karpowski wrestled the container from him with a complicated move and held it behind her back.

"Law of the jungle, Castle. Survival of the fittest. First come first served." Karpowski waved the carton behind her back and Stegner took it, moving stealthily toward the other exit, while Karpowski snagged chopsticks from under his nose.

"Fine." Castle reached into his blazer, pulling out his wallet. "Here's twenty. Go buy your own lunch."

Karpowski, eyed the cash, and cast a calculating glance at his face. "Twenty? Seriously? This is Manhattan. What kind of lunch do you think that will buy?"

"_Mine!" _ He waved the bill at Karpowski who reluctantly took it. He rescued the carton from Stegner. "Now," he retrieved the chopsticks, his face uncharacteristically stern, "Go."

"Alright, alright. Can't blame a girl for trying…" She backed away, smirking. She caught Stegner's eye who grinned.

Castle scowled as the women disappeared with no attempt at hiding their chuckles.

He'd just replaced the carton when Beckett appeared.

* * *

"Hey," Castle pretended nonchalance as he set a white carton on the table along with several others.

She'd been expecting the hot drinks. But not this. Two plastic wrapped fortune cookies rested beside mismatched plates and paper clad chopsticks. Aromas wafting from Chinese take-out cartons smelled suspiciously of Kate's favorites, chicken chow mein and spicy peanut vegetables.

Her stomach growled in response.

"Hungry?" Without hesitation, he offered her a stool and Kate blinked for a moment, looking from him to the chair and back again.

_Really? That's the way you're playing this? You disappear for two weeks with Ellie Monroe and now you expect to walk back in here and… _Kate shook her head and stared at him quizzically, "You look familiar. Do I know you?"

"Ah, yes, well…" he straightened and looked around. He finally met her gaze. "I'm sorry." Was there a vulnerable catch to his voice?

Her eyes widened. "I'm listening." She phrased it as a question, her head tilted to one side as she regarded him.

He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. "I haven't been around at a time when you need to know you can count on me." He stood completely still, watching for her reaction.

She hadn't expected him to take this route. Kate blinked rapidly as she stared around the room. Her eyes fell on the pyramid of take out containers.

He followed her gaze, saying, "So, are you joining me or am I feeding this to the dogs—er, Ryan and Esposito?" His sideways grin held just a hint of anxiety along with the playfulness, but Kate wasn't through being mad at him.

Her body, however, had other ideas. Her stomach gave another loud rumble.

His grin widened. "C'mon. You're eating for two. Or at least, yourself plus a grain of rice." The corner of his mouth tipped up as he patted the back of the stool .

"I don't know, Castle. My mother taught me not to take food from _strangers._" But she accepted the seat he offered and allowed him to help push it in.

He seemed almost giddy. "Let's forget lunch." He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Want some candy?" He quirked a brow at her, the corner of his mouth turning up, as he sat across from her. "If you don't help me put a dent in this we'll be feeding this to _someone_ stranger." He lowered his voice, "like Ryan and Esposito."

She refused to be charmed. "I wouldn't be pulling their tails, Castle. You're already on their shift list."

He frowned slightly, "Because of…" he hesitated as though reluctant to bring it up… "Because of the article?"

If the subject bothered her she gave no sign. "Not just that. They seemed to have figured out about _other developments_." A delicate emphasis on the last two words made it clear she referred to their child. She pried a container open and peeked in.

He hesitated, his eyes widening as he watched her closely, "How's that?"

Kate shrugged and dumped a portion of fried rice onto her plate. "They're _detectives_, Castle."

"C'mon, how'd they figure it out?" He caught her eye and gave her a mischievous grin.

She couldn't seem to stay mad at him and shook her head.

He opened the chow mein noodles and handed it over, letting her take all she wanted. "Tell me about the case. Who's not alibied?"

"The murder vic, Greg Murray, was unmarried. His girlfriend says they were serious, but she _claims_ he was having an affair with his assistant, Mona Kirland." Two little lines formed between her brows.

"Were you able corroborate that with Kirland?"

"No." Beckett sighed. "Kirland is the one who found the body, and had a major breakdown and has spent the last several days in a mental ward. Her doctors won't allow me access to her yet."

She had his full attention. "She could be our killer, she's trying to avoid answ—"

"Slow down, she has a history of mental illness, and it's not the first time she stumbled on a dead body." She gave him a significant look. "Besides, she has an alibi."

Castle leaned forward, eager for details.

She did not indulge him. "There are other persons of interest."

"Such as?"

"Such as the youth minister, Alexa Hawlley. Turns out, she's been in that position nine years, has built a solid program, and when the congregation was searching for a new pastor, guess who was the second choice after Murray?"

"The _youth minister_," Castle breathed, his eyes alight.

Beckett nodded. "The Financial Officer, David Awymann, witnessed a pretty vehement argument between Hawlley and our Vic two weeks ago."

_"Revenge… _or hoping to gain his position?_" _

"Maybe. But she was serving dinner at a homeless shelter with a bunch of middle schoolers at the time of death." Kate fell silent, frowning at her food.

He waited for her to speak.

Finally she dropped her chopsticks and looked him in the eye. "There's another angle. Hawlley the Youth Minister _also_ suspected an affair between Mona the secretary and the Vic." Her face was taut as she drew another breath and went on. "_And_ she witnessed an argument between the assistant, Mona, and her husband, Scott Kirland, who happened be attending a music educator's conference in Philly at the time of the murder."

"A music educator?"

"_And_ the volunteer choir director."

"Ooooh, that sheaf of music under the piano singing to you?"

She nodded and took another bite, "Like a bird, Castle, like a bird."

A companionable silence fell as they ate for a time. It was Castle who broke it. "So, Pastor Greg had an affair with his _secretary_."

"So it appears." The corner of her mouth turned down.

Castle seemed not to notice. "Did you double check Scott Kirland's alibi?"

Beckett nodded. "It holds. He was at the conference."

"Jealousy and revenge are powerful motives," Castle mused to himself, watching her.

She nodded slowly. "The vic's girlfriend, Shalisha Franks, was at night school. She stopped by on her way to the campus and saw them together about two." She grimaced.

Castle's eyes widened, seeing it. "I—" he swallowed. "What is it?"

Her jaw tightened. "Nothing." She refused to look at him.

He set his chopsticks down, watching her intently. Waiting.

She stared at her plate, biting her lip. Finally, she answered. "I get that no one is perfect. But Shalisha Franks is a smart, independent and attractive woman with a great future. Any man would be lucky to be with her." She fell silent, her brow furrowed as she considered her words. She gave a little shake of her head and then blurted, "What the hell is wrong with this guy?"

Castle's eyes widened at the anger in her eyes. His eyebrows snapped together. "What guy?"

"The _vic!_ Greg Murray! What's wrong with him? She's a great catch and she's in _love_ with him. She wanted to build a future with him and he has an affair with his _secretary?_ His _married_ secretary, who has _two kids! And_," her eyes flashed, "He wouldn't come clean when she confronted him!"

Castle set his chopsticks down, completely focused on what Beckett had to say. "How did she know about the affair?"

Beckett shrugged angrily as she stabbed a piece of chicken with a chopstick. "All of a sudden he started making excuses why he couldn't see her. Staying late to work without giving a reason, distant, uncommunicative…. Then she noticed he'd given Kirland _flowers_ and taken her to dinner." Beckett shook her head and broke off.

He was silent, serious for once. His blue eyes riveted on her face.

She was eating again, poking viciously at her meal without meeting his gaze. She continued in a quieter voice. "You would think that a pastor, a _pastor,_ would be able to keep his fly zipped."

Castle's brow furrowed in concern and when he spoke his words were carefully measured and his voice quiet. "We look up to people. We want them to be our heroes, or at least, the very best that they _can_ be. But we all fall short sooner or later. Even clergy." He swallowed hard and added, coughing under his breath, "Even me."

Kate blinked, leaning closer as though confused.

He cleared his throat, raising his voice slightly. "Or perhaps, _especially_, clergy. We tend to hold them to higher moral standards."

Kate leaned back in her chair, her voice was very quiet as she asked, "Is it too much to ask to be faithful to one woman? Is that so difficult?" Her eyes collided with his and skittered away.

Castle's face softened as he continued to watch her. "Maybe he was trying to give her space." He let his words hang between them for a moment.

Her head snapped up and she stared at him, frowning.

Castle, watching figures pass the break room windows, did not notice. "Or, he might have been planning to surprise her with something." He leaned back in his chair, thinking over what she'd told him. "Shalisha, the girlfriend, was independent, but just insecure enough to be bothered by his absence. Maybe in the extra time away," he hesitated, thinking. "Maybe he was _shopping.._."

Beckett interrupted, "Then why would he send his assistant flowers?" She poked at her food.

He shrugged. "It could be National Secretaries week. I send my secretary flowers. Why wouldn't this guy?"

She frowned slightly, "You mean, Administrative Professionals Week?"

He waved his hand dismissively.

"Castle, _Admin Professional Week_ is in _April._ Besides," Beckett reminded him. "Shalisha _saw_ Greg taking Mona to dinner."

"Was it the same week as the flowers?" He scooped up his chopsticks again, pushing his food around his plate. "I'm just saying, what Shalisha _thought _was an affair could have a reasonable explanation." He leaned closer, "Maybe, he was faithful to Shalisha. Maybe he _loved_ her." His voice trailed off, but there was too much in his eyes and she stiffened. "Maybe he wanted to surprise her with a ring."

She looked away, "Castle…" There was a warning, a tightness in her voice.

He watched the emotions play over her face and added, "I saw my murder board." His voice was quiet.

"Oh," she blinked several times and then bit her lip. "I had _nothing_ to do with that." She continued eating silently.

His chopsticks were forgotten in his hand as he watched her. "I should have called you, told you what was going on…" his voice trailed off.

"Why is that?" She refused to meet his eyes.

His eyes caressed her tense frame and his voice was deeper, rougher. "Well, because, it probably looked bad to you. My picture in the paper. With Ellie."

"Oh that." She dropped her chopsticks and reached for her napkin, pressing it to her mouth. "You're a free man, Castle." She still wouldn't look at him, muttering, "I got used to _all your women_ a long time ago."

His eyes widened, and he set his chopsticks down. He leaned forward, his voice low and insistent, "There's nothing going on."

"Excuse me?" She looked up and was snared by his insistent blue eyes.

"There's nothing going on. With Ellie and me."

Beckett's eyes widened as she took in his open body language and direct eye contact; hallmarks of an honest person with nothing to hide. She stared at him for a second, distrustful, yet wanting to believe him. Her face softened a tiny bit, and her lips parted as he continued to look straight into her eyes. She wasn't prepared for the pound of her heart or the tingling rush of warmth flooding through her. She dropped her gaze, pushing his declaration aside and searching for a safer topic.

Her work, as always, provided the distraction. She took a deep breath. "So, back to our murdered pastor…" Was there a tremor in her voice? "The sheet music may or may not belong to the organist, Scott Willer. He—" She swallowed hard, refusing to meet his eyes. "He normally gives piano lessons to Mona Kirland's kids on Tuesday. With their dad out of town, they were at the church waiting—"

He frowned, "Beckett…"

She chattered on, filling the silence and avoiding his gaze. Every time their eyes met, hers skittered away. She slid off her stool, piling used napkins and chopsticks on to her plate.

He stood, reaching for her elbow, but she headed for the trash bin, his hand falling away as she continued her monologue. He caught up with her at the sink. She was rinsing her plate under the stream of water as he came up behind her, his hands resting on her waist, his lips at her ear… "Kate…" His voice was infinitely gentle, as were his hands.

Her voice seemed tight to her own ears, as she continued, "It could be either, but the music isn't written for voices… or so Stegner tells me.

"Kate…"

"She sings you know. A minor in music—"

He clenched his jaw in frustration, trying to break into her monologue. _"Beckett! _ Can we talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about , her throat was tight.

_"Us."_ His was soft, pitched for her ears alone.

She gave a brittle little laugh. "Us? What _us_?" Her shoulders were rigid. "We are _partners_. We _solve crimes_ together."

His soft voice was meant to cajole but only succeeded in further exacerbating… "We made a baby together. Do partners—"

_"No."_ It came out sharper than necessary and she turned away to see his eyes darken, his hands falling uselessly to his side.

"Castle," She stared at him for a moment in dismay, finally reaching out a trembling hand to squeeze his arm, trying to soften her words as she told him, "Thank you for lunch, Castle, but Ryan and Esposito will be returning from the canvass soon, and I can't deal with this right now." She released him and turned away, heading for the still empty bull pen.

He followed her frowning, his eyebrows drawing together and his face flushed. "Kate—" he tried again.

She shook her head without looking at him. "Not here," she muttered, seating herself at her desk, her long hair falling forward like a curtain hiding her face.

He stood at her elbow a moment, watching her sift through the files on her desk, an awkward silence hanging between them. He sat in his usual chair, his fingertips pressed together and his jaw set. "When?" he asked, at last. But it was not a question. Not really. More like an emphatic demand that would not be denied.

Her hands went very still and she shook her head, "Castle—I've nothing to say—" She risked a glance at him.

"I do. When?"

It was a tone she'd heard from him only once, implacable, steely. It brought her back to that horrible day six months past when her apartment exploded into flames, and he'd pulled her from the wreckage of her home, ultimately insisting she stay with him.

"Saturday? I'll pick you up." His gray-blue eyes took in every detail of her expression as she felt her resolve slipping. _Damn it! _She _wanted _to see him. She wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Castle—" She bit her lip, staring at him, "I'll be seeing apartments all day." She heard herself say, then sighed. "My move-out date has been moved up."

He sounded pleased. "I'll pick you up for breakfast. Nine o'clock?"

"It's a date," she said sourly.

He leaned closer, whispering in her ear as he rose. "I know."

She grimaced, "Take down that damn murder board. The last thing I need is the whole precinct seeing it and speculating."

He grinned. "With pleasure."

* * *

It had been a coup for Richard Castle to take Ellie Monroe to the Hardwick Awards two days before. The pinnacle gathering of the Nom De Plume Society was a banquet seating several hundred writers of all degrees of fame. The wannabes who only just managed to score a ticket and were hoping for a break. The mid-list writers with steady followings but still needed a _real-job_ to support their writing habit. And then there were the Richard Castles. He was one of the superstars; a hot shot with a household name and who occasionally found himself in the gossip rags.

Writer's gatherings in general did not make page six, page seven, or even eight, nine or ten. Writers, with a few notable exceptions, tended to be introverted and less social creatures. For even a bestseller like Rick to cross over into playboy/celebrity status made him something of a peacock in a flock of pigeons. But to show up with an internationally recognized star, such as Ellie Monroe on his arm? Pandemonium. Or rather, pandemonium's introverted twin.

The few reporters covering the event openly gaped before remembering to photograph Rick and Ellie as they strolled across the red carpet. The Hardwicks might not be a household name, but the coordinator still observed the niceties in honoring their smaller, quieter world. From the flustered way he fawned over Ellie, at the ballroom entrance, Rick gathered his agent neglected to give the planner a heads up.

Paula, his agent, was instrumental in Ellie attending the awards ceremony.

Ellie'd been in New York for three and a half weeks, shooting Heat Wave at recognizable New York locations. Her demanding schedule didn't allow her the free time to cultivate a social life, but a phone call from Paula convinced The Powers That Be that advanced and free publicity for Heat Wave was worth cutting her loose several hours early. After all, it was her soon-to-be memorialized face in the Heat Wave movie, regardless of who inspired the character of Nikki Heat. Her attendance at the banquet, on the author's arm, was worth several million dollars of ramped up movie marketing. And if Heat Wave took Best Novel? The golden deal was liable to go platinum.

Ellie Monroe, an extraordinarily sensual actress hadn't been Rick's first choice for his date, or even second or third. He'd reluctantly considered bringing Alexis, but she had a test and balked. Martha was hard at work rehearsing for the reopening of Steel Magnolias. (She was determined to show Shirley MacLaine how Ouiser was meant to be played.)

His thoughts turned time and again to his inspiration for the character of Nikki Heat. Twice she'd asked for space in the last month and ignored every hint he'd dared slide her way. He wasn't fool enough to push her.

Paula suggested Ellie Monroe as his date. Castle sighed and agreed. But in the end, Ellie helped see his heart clearly at last.

He could have left the invitation for Paula to work out, but long practice in the art of romance disallowed it. He made a special trip to Rockefeller Center to invite Ellie. She hugged him in surprised delight. A text to Paula was all it took for Ellie's availability to suddenly open up for the evening in question.

It wasn't so bad, Rick reflected as he fiddled with his cuff links. Judging from Ellie's smile and kiss on the mouth that went along with the hug, it was almost a sure thing. Great publicity for the movie, novel, _and_ a happy ending. What more could he ask for?

In his mind's eye, Ellie's face morphed into another's. He shrugged it off. Beckett made it clear; she wasn't getting involved with him. There was nothing between them. No reason not to enjoy himself tonight…

Still, his smile slipped a notch.

He'd not bothered holding back a low whistle of appreciation when the hair dresser admitted him to Ellie's suite. There was something to be said for having your own hair and makeup artists on staff, as well as a clothing designer. She was every inch a leading lady. Her longish red dress hugged her curves in a way that was both classy and sensual.

"Stunning."

She pretended to blush and he recognized her girl-next-door act. "It's a Valentino. You don't think it's too much?"

It was perfect and she knew it, but Rick was always generous with compliments. He couldn't help thinking of Beckett's genuineness for all her reserve. He opened his mouth to mention the Valentino he'd bought Beckett a year and a half ago, and shut it again. He could almost hear his mother's voice, _What are you thinking? You don't talk about another woman on a date!_

He couldn't seem to help himself. Several times on the way to the Grand Hyatt they passed sites of key arrests and crime scenes. It seemed only natural to fill Ellie in on the stories. Especially since she'd been so very interested last spring… He broke his second story off when he glimpsed her fiddling with her clutch and staring out the window.

He'd firmly turned the conversation to _her_ after that, asking for details about the filming. It was the ideal topic since they both had a vested interest. She coyly insinuated her costar, Jason Bateman, wasn't quite handsome enough to pull off Jameson Rook. Rick allowed the corner of his mouth to curve upward, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.

Ellie was the ideal date. Wherever they went, Rick found himself in a larger than usual knot of admirers, and she laughed and flirted just enough. He didn't even mind when John Hart beat him for Best Novel. He was enjoying himself, and it didn't hurt that when Ellie leaned over to whisper in his ear, she laid a hand on his thigh, her smile inviting.

At 11:45, the ceremony was long over but aspiring writers still peppered him with questions about the industry, how to find an agent, and where he got his ideas. When Ellie slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and whispered with a secretive smile, "I've an early call tomorrow," Rick only nodded and lifted his hand in farewell to his admirers, allowing her to pull him away.

It was only later, in the dim light of her Plaza suite, as she handed him a glass of red wine that he asked her how early. She allowed a tiny smile and a coy sideways glance. "Ten."

_"Ten?"_ Rick protested as she curled one leg under her on the settee beside him. "You, little _diva_, pulling me away from my fans like that."

She traced the folds of his tuxedo shirt with a manicured finger. "It was _my turn_…" she whispered. "I was _very_ patient." Her lower lip jutted out in a sexy pout, but her eyes were smiling as she leaned closer.

Their lips brushed once, and again. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she pressed closer, her perfume teasing at his senses as the kiss deepened.

_There's been no one else since Beckett._

He stiffened with surprise as the errant thought pulled his focus away from the woman in his arms.

She drew back, smiling at his stunned expression. She set their goblets aside. Turning back to him, she studied his face, frowning. "What's wrong?" She was very nearly in his lap. "Rick, what is it?"

He swallowed hard, rubbing at a spot on the knee of his trousers. How could he explain his confusion and the wrongness of what he saw when their kiss ended and he'd opened his eyes?

There was something misshapen about her face. Her cheeks were too rounded and soft, not enough angles in her jaw. Her hair was too dark and far too curly. She was too short… and too curvy. For a moment, she'd felt alien in his arms.

He covered his confusion by smiling at her. "My pants are too tight." A wink let her know he wasn't referring to his waist band. She was in his lap then, her arms twined around his neck and he lost himself again in the warm softness of the moment. His lips burned a pathway along her neck to plant a kiss behind her ear, murmuring to her. A low laugh escaped her lips and then she gasped as his teeth nipped at her tender flesh. It'd been weeks and the comfort and closeness of another body pressed to his drugged him. His hand slid beneath the hem of her dress, moving steadily upward and her throaty voice whispering in his ear…

It happened again. Something in her voice, her whisper of excitement jangled in his ears, sending reverberations through him, dousing him with a cold realization. She made short work of his shirt buttons and reached a hand inside, drawing circles on his skin. He captured her wrist and she drew back.

"Ellie—"

"What is it?" She stared back at him in confusion. "Rick?"

"No, I— Can you give me a moment?"

Her dark eyes were unfathomable in the dimness but she nodded and gracefully rose, ascending the stairs to her bedroom.

He blew out a breath and took up his wine, rising. The door to the balcony beckoned him and he stepped out into the chill October evening. The breeze ruffled the edges of his open shirt as he yanked the haphazard tie off and dropped it into a pocket. He raised his glass to his lips but did not drink, suddenly preferring the lucidity of a clear head.

Ellie was a beautiful woman and a fun bed partner, he knew from their spring fling. But, this wasn't about her.

He set his goblet down on the wrought iron table and surveyed the view of Central Park and the skyline beyond. He buttoned his shirt, staring at the trees below in the midst of changing into their golden fall dresses. The leaves appeared muddy brown where too little light reached. On the 20th floor, the streets sounds were clearly audible. He wrapped his hands around the top of the iron railing, feeling it absorb the heat of his hands.

He should have seen it before. It seemed so obvious now. She was always on his mind; she or the baby. Or all of them together. A family. He finally recognized the shape of his hopes for their future.

He tried the words out to himself feeling their weight, and import, measuring his body's response to them. _I am in love with Kate Beckett. _He contemplated her face, her smile, the way she tried to hide her amusement at his antics. The way she'll look when she's heavy with their child… Contentment stole through him.

It felt _right_. He smiled thinking of her.

"Rick?"

He turned to find Ellie hovering beside the door in her bare feet. She had changed into something black and satiny, her arms wrapped around herself against the breeze. He approached her, his lips parted to tell her… what could he tell her?

She took his hand and pulled him back inside and leaned against the closed door, staring at him.

"Ellie…"

A single step closed the space between them, and he felt her tentative touch gliding over his belly and chest, as she tipped her head back searching his eyes.

Rick shook his head instead of kissing her, capturing her hands and holding them tightly in his, thinking of Kate, how the thought of her was enough to make him choose celibacy over a willing, and beautiful woman.

"You're not staying…" Her voice trailed off.

"This isn't about you, Ellie." He hesitated and squeezed her hands. "You deserve a better role than stand-in, and there's already a leading lady in my life."

She made a soft sound, wrenching her hands away. "You're not staying, are you?"

He shook his head again. "No." He watched her beautiful eyes narrow and stepped back. "I'm sorry."

"You're _sorry?"_ she hissed, she opened her mouth to say more and closed it abruptly, glaring at him. For a moment Rick wondered if she was on the verge of a tantrum. Then, her face softened "Is this someone I know?" she sighed.

He shook his head slightly but said nothing. "I—should go," He reached for his jacket where it lay draped over a chair.

"Fine," she nodded, not bothering to hide her disappointment.

He thrust his arms through the sleeves, then checked his keys and wallet, wishing for an exit that did not include anger or what felt like infidelity.

But, she met his eyes with her head held high. "She's a lucky woman, whoever she is." Raising up on her toes, she kissed his cheek.

Rick smiled slightly. "Thank you." There was an awkward pause before he lifted her hand to his lips and turned to go.

* * *

_If you're still with me after that looooong update, please let me know what you think. _

_ A whole lot of blood sweat and tears went into that lunch scene. Was it worth the effort to get it right?_

_Click on the review button, please, and let me know._


	18. Naked Truth

_**March 8, 2011**_

_Not much to report except that I've been getting a lot of work hours and will be busy with family birthday celebrations this weekend. __I__'m really not sure when 19 will be up. _It just depends on how much time I manage to devote to it. It's going to the Beta readers today. 

Ignacio, _it's about time! No more lip about my chapters taking forever_! : - D

* * *

_**February 22, 2011**_

_Dear Reader,_

_I'm cringing as I write this. __I feel quite hypocritical for __doing two things __in full knowledge, _that I personally deplore.

_1. Saying I'll do something, and not following through. But, I've discovered I am more productive with smaller deadlines, such as, oh I don't know, get chapter 18 publishable? Forget the author's note where I said I'd finish the story before I publish again. I'm going back to writing chapter by chapter. For now._

_2. Putting apologies for being a pokey writer in author's notes. I really hate reading stories where each chapter begins with an apology, so I intentionally veer away from it. So if you read an apology from me, please know, A. it's overdue, B. It's sincere, and C. it also goes for every other chapter that was not up in a timely manner. _

_3. Over using "I" Yeesh! Four times in two sentences is ridiculous!_

_That being said, sorry I'm late. __Enjoy Chapter 18._

_Blessings,_

_Bren_

* * *

_**Naked Truth**_

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

_**Day28**:__ 238 days to go. _

[Your baby's] arms now look like flippers. In the next three days, the leg buds will appear. [The baby] now measures .16 to .24 inches long (4—6mm) crown to rump.

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p22_

* * *

Settling behind the nondescript table in the nondescript room, Rick Castle reflected that the mental ward's observation room was not unlike the interrogation room at the precinct. _But then again_, he supposed, _a shrink's job is not unlike that of a police detective's, in some respects._

"Can you describe the nature of your relationship with Greg Murray?" Kate Beckett broke into his thoughts as she leaned toward her interview subject.

Kirland was a thin woman whose straggly dark hair spoke of neglect. _It's clean, _Rick corrected his errant thought, remembering the distraught woman in the church foyer days ago. Her appearance then had been well-groomed. A week in a mental ward, on a suicide watch, had not allowed for her usual attention to detail…

Beckett's voice interrupted his reverie. "Mrs. Kirland? Did you work for Reverend Murray?"

The thin woman, who'd been so still while staring at her hands, looked up at last. "Yes. I am—_was_ his assistant. His secretary." Her eyes dropped to the table again.

Considering how long her doctors denied Beckett access to Mona Kirland, it was a little surprising there wasn't one in here as a watch dog.

"Were you close?" Beckett's voice was low, comforting.

_Compassionate,_ Castle corrected himself. Mona Kirland, affair or not, was obviously devastated by Murray's death. He glanced at Kate. The compassion in her face was as extraordinary as ever. He stared a bit longer, noting how the lines of her face softened, enhancing her beauty.

_Focus, Castle_, he reminded himself.

"—So Greg was kind of the older brother I never had."

"I understand," Beckett replied, her brow furrowing.

Castle judged she was trying to gauge how hard to push Kirland.

"Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Greg? An enemy or someone who might have had a recent conflict with him?"

Kirland's gaze dropped to the scarred table, her thick brows beedled as she blinked rapidly. "Everyone loved Greg," she said to the table, her voice rising. "He was a wonderful pastor. Very kind. A true shepherd—"

"Mrs. Kirland, Greg isn't the one we're inquiring about at the moment." Beckett didn't raise her voice at all but continued in the same kind, measured tone. "But if there _was_ someone who had a recent disagreement with him, I need to know."

Kirland sat, immobile, looking so fragile that for a moment, Castle pitied her.

"The person you're protecting might be the _one person_ with information that could lead to Greg's killer." Beckett's voice hardened as she stared back at Kirland. "I need your help—_Greg_ needs your help."

Kirland's face puckered, and she gasped for breath, hiding her face.

Beckett voice softened again, "We can offer you protection…"

"Uncle David," she finally gasped from behind her hands. "Greg was staying late to talk to him about the money."

Castle sat forward listening attentively.

"What money?" Beckett's voice was gentle. Almost as though she didn't care.

"The money, for the youth center—" Kirland began and closed her eyes for a moment then she continued more coherently. "We'd raised nearly $130,000 to refurbish the youth center. We need a bigger gym, and a multipurpose room with a kitchen. Nana, David's mother, died last spring and she wanted her assets to go to the church, for the youth center." She spoke rapidly, the words tumbling out of her like water breaking free of a dam. "Uncle David was the executor of her estate, as well as the financial officer of the church. He was supposed to have donated it all… We were supposed to have the… the money _never showed up in the account!_

"Greg knew about the bequest—he was trying to talk with him—David _didn't_ take the money though. He couldn't have. But he does the books and Greg was getting upset because Uncle David couldn't explain why it wasn't there!"

"David-?"

"Awymann." Kirland confirmed. "He's my Uncle."

"We got that," Beckett's eyes glittered for a moment as she observed the woman before her. "Can you tell me more about your uncle?"

"He's the kindest, most humble man. He would give you the shirt off his back. He's always ready to help a friend." She took a deep breath, glancing at her hands, twisting into knots. Her voice became small, child-like. "He was like a father to me after mine d-died. He gave me away at my wedding. He _couldn't _have taken the money. He would _never harm_ Greg."

"Maybe he didn't take the money, but he may have information we need to help us find the killer." Beckett soothed. "How did you know the money hasn't been donated?"

"A couple weeks ago, one of our members made a generous donation. Normally, Uncle David would deposit the check but he was out of town. So I took it to the bank. But the balance wasn't what I'd expected it to be. I thought that was strange so I double checked the account. Then I told Greg. He started checking statements and records and the letter from my grandmother stating her intentions, going through the books… I'm not sure what he found. He wouldn't tell me. He thought it would be best to keep it between him and Uncle David, because we're family. But Sunday, before—before Greg d—"

"Go on."

"Sunday, Greg told me he'd made extra copies of all the paperwork and hidden it underneath the filing cabinet in my office. I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone…"

"Is it still there?"

"As far as I know. But I've been _here_ since that day…" Her voice trailed off as her face began to flush with rising emotion.

"I'll have my people check." Beckett assured her. "You did the right thing by telling me." She gave Castle a look and he slipped into the hallway, cell phone in hand. A moment later it was ringing in his ear.

"Ryan."

"Ryan, it's Castle."

He returned in time to watch the interview become an interrogation.

"Mrs. Kirland, two different people have given testimony to the fact that you and Greg Murray were having an affair. What can you tell me about that?"

"Wha—_affair?"_ Kirland stared from one to the other. "With Greg?" Silence answered her. "I'm not having an affair with Greg."

"Mrs. Kirland, my sources state you were having a secret affair, which included dinner at Palo Santo as well as flowers. From where I'm standing, it appears you killed him out of jealousy and have been hiding behind your—_breakdown_ to avoid answering questions."

Kirland's mouth fell open and her brown eyes were wide as she stared at Beckett, aghast.

"Further, you're trying to pass suspicion onto David Awymann for Greg's murder."

Kirland shook her head emphatically. "I told you. Greg was like a _brother._ I'm _married_. Greg was practically _engaged_ to Shalisha."

"Who?" Beckett's voice was flat.

"Shalisha Franks, Greg's girlfriend. She lives in Brooklyn, but she's a P.A. from Willyburg, Florida. They are—were very serious." Kirland's eyes darted from one to the other. "We _weren't_ having an affair."

Beckett stood, leaning across the table, into Kirland's personal space, speaking slowly and biting off each word. "Shalisha Franks went on record stating Greg was cheating. With you." Her eyes were cold. "She was positive he was spending time away. With you. She claims he'd taken you to dinner and given you flowers."

Kirland shook her head emphatically. "No. _No._ He took me to dinner, but for my _anniversary_. Same with the flowers. He showed me—"

"Most people go to anniversary dinner with their _husbands_," Castle interjected mildly.

"Not my _wedding _anniversary. The anniversary of my _hire date._ I've been employed by the congregation for five years now. _That's_ why he brought me flowers." Kirland's eyes darted between them.

Beckett's jaw dropped open and she blinked several times before she remembered to close it. She straightened, "What, now?"

Kirland shrugged, "Roses, one for each year. You can ask my husband. He knows all about it."

Castle and Beckett exchanged a look, "So, it was almost like an employee appreciation occasion." He commented keeping his voice very neutral.

Kirland nodded vigorously, "Exactly. And while we were out, he took me by the jewelry store and showed me the ring he'd picked out for Shalisha. He was _completely_ in love with her."

Castle and Beckett exchanged a long look. It was Castle who turned back to Kirland first. "Do you remember which jewelry store the ring is at?"

Beckett cut in, "Mona, you told me at the crime scene you were at the movies with your children at the time of Greg's murder." She gave the smaller woman a level stare. "Was anyone else with you?" Before Kirland could answer she continued, "Please understand that I will check your debit and credit card records _and_ subpoena security footage from the theatre to verify your answer."

Kirland was statue still, her lips parted in dismay her eyes trapped by Beckett's. "I had-My children, Anthony and Jeremy… with me…"

"Was anyone _else_ with you?"

Kirland looked from one to the other, leaning back in her seat as though to distance herself from the question. "No." Kirland's voice was small and she closed her eyes and took several shallow breaths, then turned back to Beckett, pleading. "Please, _don't_ tell David I told you."

* * *

_**Day29:**__ 237 days to go. _

In eight more days (by Day 37), the baby will be twice as long as it is today. Leg development always lags slightly behind arm development until the third year of the baby's life. Good nutrition is the most important aspect of a healthy pregnancy.

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p24_

* * *

"Thank you for coming, Shalisha." Beckett stepped forward to shake the woman's hand. She wore her kinky, black hair in cornrows and her scrubs indicated she'd come from work.

"I got here as soon as I could. Traffic—"

"No, no. I understand." Beckett turned slightly, indicating Rick. "This is Richard Castle. He worked with me on the case."

Shalisha Franks shook his hand, giving him a polite smile before following Beckett into the interview lounge. No sooner was she seated then she asked, a faint Southern accent lengthening her vowels, "Please, what did you find?"

Beckett cleared her throat softly, "Since Greg Murray listed you as next of kin, you are entitled to certain information." The padding in the chair adjacent to Shalisha was permanently molded by bigger bottoms than hers. She leaned forward now, with the case file in her lap. "Tell me what you know about David Awymann."

Shalisha's raised eyebrows gave way to a confused frown. "He's the church financial officer; manages the books. He's a good friend of Greg's." She shrugged, "His parents helped found the congregation. Everyone thinks the world of David. He's a real servant leader. He's involved in _everything_. The youth ministry, the worship team, leadership team, church board—"

"Women's ministry?" Castle arched a brow and was rewarded by a small smile.

"No, but he's the head of the men's group. They meet at Bubby's in Brooklyn every Saturday. You should—"

Beckett interrupted, "Have you ever known Greg and Awymann to have disagreements?

Shalisha shrugged again. "Everyone has disagreements at one time or another." A graceful gesture from Beckett indicated she should continue. "David felt God was leading us to sell the existing church building and youth center and move the congregation to the suburbs. Westchester maybe. Greg felt the call was to minister to the hard-living folk here in the city. Most of the board sided with Greg."

Beckett nodded as though her words confirmed her suspicions. "Ms. Franks, this afternoon, David Awymann was charged with Greg's murder."

Beckett's words hung in silence broken only by Shalisha's sharp gasp. "David? No! It's not possible—" Her voice cracked, her eyes were wide.

Beckett continued as though Shalisha had not spoken. "It was over money. David's mother told Greg her plans to leave a quarter of a million dollars to the youth fund. David was the executor of the estate and channeled the money to his personal finances after she died last spring."

"It—It doesn't seem possible—David?"

"I assure you, it is. Greg did some detective work of his own and compiled a paper trail. Awymann hasn't confessed, but he doesn't need to. He did it and when Greg got suspicious and started asking questions, David killed him."

Shalisha stared at the scarred wooden table blindly, shaking her head slightly. Beckett gave her time, watching her with sympathy.

"Shalisha, we could have gone over these details in a phone call. We asked you to come in for another reason." She took a deep breath and let it out. "You told me Greg was having an affair with his assistant, Mona Kirland. Is that correct?"

A spasm of pain crossed her face and her voice faltered. "He wouldn't admit to it, but it seemed to be true."

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you know?"

"He was spending his time off away. When I asked where, he went he wouldn't say…. Then there were the rumors. The flowers…"

Castle interjected, "Did you ask him about it?"

"Yes. He said—he said there was _nothing going on_." Shalisha closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly. Her voice deepened with bitterness. "But he couldn't explain what he was doing in his time away." She opened her eyes, zeroing in on Beckett, "Like I'm supposed to just _ignore_ all the earmarks of an affair because he says, _There's nothing going on._"

Kate nodded. "I understand." Her voice was low and more than empathy added layers to her words.

Castle glanced from Shalisha to Beckett, his eyebrows knit as he sat back in his chair, watching Kate, whose gaze had dropped to the floor between them, two lines appearing between her brows.

"Then I saw him with Mona at dinner. And the _flowers_…" Shalisha closed her eyes and her face flushed under her dusky skin. When she spoke her voice was thick with suppressed pain. "It all made too much sense." She stared across the room, seeming blind to the world around her. Her voice was a ragged whisper, "He didn't even _know_ I saw him with her. I—I felt sick to my stomach."

"That must have been a terrible shock," Kate murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She cleared her throat delicately. "Shalisha, there's something else you need to know. Greg and Mona were _not_ romantically involved. Mona told us they were celebrating the fifth anniversary of her _hire date."_

"And—"Castle broke in, reaching into his jacket. "During those long hours where he couldn't explain where he'd gone, he was ring shopping. For you." He set a tiny velvet box on the table between them. "He loved you and wanted to propose." His gaze did not linger on Shalisha but returned to Beckett.

"He just needed to pay off your ring first." Kate's voice was husky. A little smile toyed with the corner of her mouth and was gone.

The moment Rick offered her the box, Shalisha's hands flew to her lips. "Oh," she gasped. "Oh! Sweet Savior!" She stretched out a trembling hand. She hesitated, then opened the box to find a delicate engagement ring, startlingly bright against the rich burgundy velvet. "I—I was so angry. I said—Oh Jesus! Oh _Greg_…" she whispered, her voice aching with grief. For a moment the only sounds were her gasps.

He rose unobtrusively and moved to the door. He turned to see Beckett rising to follow.

"Take as much time as you need," Beckett told her as Castle held the door open. In the hallway, Kate paused to blow out a breath.

"Tough one, huh?"

"Yes, and no." She meandered down the hallway, Castle in step beside her. "It's tough because she has a big hole in her life now. But we were able to give her back the sweetness of the joy they shared." Her smile was fleeting. She seemed oblivious to the way he studied the nuances of her expression as she stared straight ahead. "More importantly, we gave her the _truth_. All of it." Kate's second smile was whimsical, almost wishful. "Luckily, the truth was pretty special. This time."

Castle stared at her profile and when he spoke his voice was soft. "What if the truth isn't as pretty?"

"It's still the truth. It's still freedom. When you know the truth you can accept it. Let it become part of you. Free you from wondering."

"And then?" He watched her intently.

"And then, you get on with life."

A deep crease appeared between his brows, the only indication of his thoughts as she led the way into the bull pen. She settled into her desk while he lounged in his customary chair beside her. But his nonchalance was affected. After a moment he spoke. "I was thinking about something Shalisha said. She'd asked Greg what was going on. But he wanted to surprise her with a ring and wouldn't come clean about everything." Castle's voice was soft. "He died with harsh words between them."

Beckett waited as he fell into silence. "And?" she prompted.

His eyes searched hers for a long moment. When he spoke his voice was faltering, uncertain. "It was my agent's idea. To take Ellie to the Hardwick's Monday night."

He noted the sudden intake of breath, the tension in her shoulders and the frown hiding behind her stillness but continued. "I agreed because you'd asked for space and it seemed like a smart publicity move." His voice was very soft.

She tore her eyes away from his, groping for a file on her desktop. "Castle, you don't have to explain. You're a free man—"

"No!"

Startled by his intensity, she looked up and was caught by his gaze.

He gentled his voice, "No." He pulled the file from her hands as he leaned toward her. "I'm not." Their eyes met again. "And I _want_ you to understand." There was an odd hitch in his voice as he continued. "I'm no saint, Kate. Ellie asked me up to her room, and… I went. I only stayed long enough to realize—" He took a deep breath, "she'd be a poor substitute for you."

All around them, phones rang, detectives and staff passed by, gathering information on the latest murder. But neither of them moved, their gazes locked.

Beckett broke eye contact first, biting her lip as she rolled a pencil between her hands. When she finally spoke her voice was quiet, without rancor. "Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"No." he swallowed hard before his eyes met hers. "You deserve to know the truth. And the truth is there hasn't been anyone else." He got to his feet, still staring down at her. "And I don't want you wondering what happened with Ellie." That vulnerable hitch was back in his voice. When she made no move to respond he turned to go.

She watched him walk away, her expression complicated. "See you tomorrow, Castle?"

He paused, a smile hovering around his eyes. "I'll pick you up. Nine o'clock?"

"Nine o'clock," she echoed.

"See you then." His smile materialized and she couldn't help but share it.

"See you then."

* * *

_FYI, I recently published chapter 1 of a new story, **Sitting in a Tree, Backwards**. Don't worry, **As Good As On Paper** is still the top priority._

_So how did you like **Chapter 18**? I love hearing what you think. **Review? **_

_ [Ahem.] You will review before you run off to read the new story won't you? [Hugs!]_

* * *

_**Disclaimer:  
**All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._


	19. On the Brink

_**Disclaimer: **_All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended

* * *

_**May 6, 2011**_

_I just received the following review:_

how much time can a person take to write one chapter?...i know ...3 entire months!

_The answer is, Yes, particularly when I'm working (for a paycheck) nearly every day. I could easily slap something together and post, just to pacify you/finish it. But most of my readers want to savor it. And I do too. Hence the wait._

_******May 7, 2011**_

_I wonder how many of you are actually interested in _why_ chapter 20 has taken so long to appear. The reasons are threefold and they all started in March. _

_1. I'm a substitute teacher and have gained enough _experience_ to get called nearly every day. The more often I work, the more often the computer calls me. I've been subbing since November, but this spring the calls really picked up. It's almost every day now, and even if I decide to make myself unavailable by turning my phone off... the office managers still get me by bypassing the system and calling me direct. It's so tough being me. _

_2. My husband was diagnosed with __sleep apnea_ and went on a Cpap machine in March. Which means he now sleeps with a mask over his nose. Can you imagine going to sleep wearing a contraption like that? To help him adjust, I spent several weeks reading to him as he attempted to sleep. (Robin Hobb's Fool's Fate.) It was successful and he no longer needs me to read to him. (Thank goodness! Between that, #1, and #3, well, I prefer having more time to myself.) 

_3. I am on a spiritual journey, along with my congregation. This involves daily study and prayer, as well as a study guide. It's been a wonderful experience, but _again, _it eats into time I'd otherwise be writing. _

_4. I am still waiting for *** to review my latest chapters. Her reviews are often so addictively ego-inflating, that they usually inspire me to work myself into a writing-frenzy to produce another one. How about you send her a nice, friendly pm via her profile at fanfiction dot net, and when she gets her review on, oh let's say chapter 19, I will publish chapter 20 immediately. I'll make the time. Stay home from work. Tell my husband the financial goals can go hang. Whatever! _

_Be sure and tell *** that Lady Brenlis sent you. :-) She actually enjoys being harassed! I swear! How do I know this? It takes one to know one. __:-)_

_Thanks for sticking with me. _

_Bren_

* * *

_**March 24, 2011**_

_First off, the bit with the Ferrari was written weeks before the show leaked photos of Beckett driving Castle's Ferrari. I changed the type of car (which I'd written as a silver Lexus) but that's it. I swear. You can ask my beta readers. (Thank you again, ladies!) Or read the original version on my teaser story. _

_Bubby's Pie Company can be found on Hudson in Tribeca, New York. Believe it or not, many of the descriptions came directly from the restaurant's website. It's too imaginative to be anything _but_ fiction, which makes me think Richard Castle had a hand in the writing of them. _

_Thank you again for the outstanding reviews! __ I love reading your com__ments._

_I updated the teaser story several weeks ago with a deleted scene from chapter 18. It was a little too much of Season One Richard Castle than is appropriate for this part of the story, but it would have been a fun way to open the chapter. It's worth sharing, at any rate. Enjoy!_

* * *

**_ON THE BRINK_**

**_Chapter Nineteen_**

_**Day30:**__ 236 days to go. _

The baby's brain has differentiated into the three main parts possessed by all human brains: the forebrain, the midbrain, and the hindbrain. The baby now measures ¼ inch (6-7 mm) long—that's 10,000 times bigger than at conception in only 30 days.

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p24_

* * *

Kate stared at her reflection in the mirror, refusing to consider why she'd chosen that particular top. She'd been determined to dress normally. Yet this form-fitting sweater with an almost tissuey consistency had found its way into her hand and over her head. It was high-necked and transparent in random places. In bright light, it would give interesting views.

Castle would definitely notice.

Her fingers felt icy even to herself, as again, she refused to think about whether a different top would be a better choice for her morning with Castle. Her gaze wandered back over her reflection. She looked pale, her eyes huge. Her fingers splayed across her midriff, trying to calm herself.

Still staring at her reflection, her hand slid downward until it rested over the tiny but firm mound of her belly. Changes already. She closed her eyes. Her baby. And Castle's. Would it have his blue eyes? Her own high cheekbones? A first daughter for her, or a first son for him? The corner of her mouth twitched upwards. Would he even know what to do with a son?

The buzzer sounded from below and her heart burst into a wild staccato. With outward calmness, she moved to the intercom and pushed the button. "Yes?"

"It's Castle."

"Fine." She caught her lower lip between her teeth for an instant. "I'll be right down." She released the button, and pulled a jacket out of her closet. One more glance around the studio earned a frown at the La Perla gift bag still taking up space on her dresser. The plush throw rugs muffled the click of her heels as she crossed the studio, opened a drawer and pushed the bag into it.

The doorbell rang. Did the man _never_ follow directions? She peeked out the privacy hole and pulled the door open to see him standing on her landing, slightly out of breath and a steaming drink in either hand.

_Oh damn!_ He was wearing _that_ shirt; the vivid blue that brought out his eyes. The last time he'd worn it, she'd ended up pregnant.

"Hi," he said at last, and she realized she'd been staring.

"Hi." She hesitated and then stood aside. He entered and she closed the door behind him. Again, they stared at each other until he offered her a cup.

"Tea?"

"Thank you." Another awkward silence stretched between them. "Shall—shall we?"

A dimple flashed into existence for a second, _"Yes."_

He held the door and she locked it behind them. He offered his arm. She hesitated to take it. Their eyes met and she could see his growing tension.

She couldn't refuse. Her fingers curved around his bicep, silently approving its size. There was a flutter of something young and feminine inside her. She tucked her hair behind her ear to cover her nervousness.

He chuckled for no apparent reason as they descended the stairs together.

Kate glanced at him, as she coiled a strand of hair around one finger. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just, I almost feel like a teenager on a first date!" He cast a sideways glance at her and catching her brief, rueful smile, he visibly relaxed.

"Where are we going?"

"That depends." A mysterious smile teased at the corner of his mouth. "Are you ready for a breakfast where each ingredient comes from a source that is made in the purest way; both actually and spiritually?"

She stared at him, blinking several times before answering? "What?"

He nodded as though he suspected as much. "To my car."

She shook her head as though bamboozled. "A spiritualbreakfast _and_ a car?"

"Yes." One corner of his mouth curved upward at her sarcasm. "If it's _my _car do I get to drive?" he queried.

A smirk was the only answer he received, but they were both smiling as they reached the street. "This way," he murmured.

"I don't know, Castle. You still haven't said where we're go—ing." Her voice trailed off and her steps faltered as they approached a shiny red Ferrari, glinting in a rare patch of direct sunlight.

She relinquished his arm as he opened the passenger door. Giving her a cocky grin, he held it for her, announcing, "Your chariot awaits!"

She appraised the sports car, her eyes widening for an instant before returning to him. "Chariot, huh?"

He shrugged self-deprecatingly, "Cliché, I know, but…" He waited for her to get in. She didn't.

Trailing three finger tips along the curvaceous body, she walked around the vehicle and slid in the driver's side.

Castle got in beside her, trying to hide a grin. "Fine, but I'm driving you home."

"Keys?" She held out her hand

"Keyless. Just push the button."

She punched the button near the steering column and hearing the engine rumble brought a hint of a smile to her lips. Castle watched her adjust the seat and mirrors. Their eyes met. "Where to?"

He did not hesitate. "Tribeca."

She slid the car into gear and peeled away from the curb.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Kate eased the Ferrari into its assigned parking garage space, and threw it into park. "You know, I could have saved you the trouble of driving and ridden my motorcycle over."

Castle, not waiting for the car to stop rolling, was already hurrying around to the driver's side. "For the record, I _wanted_ to pick you up," he answered as he held the door for her. "Of course, I also wanted to show you that I _know _how to drive…" He let his voice trail off meaningfully, as he offered his arm again.

She slid her fingers around his bicep. "Maybe next time," she deflected, then, catching his smile at the mention of future time spent together, bit her lip and gave her head a tiny shake.

Moments later, they'd left the gloom of the parking garage and were enjoying the sunlit streets of Tribeca. The maple trees were in full glory of fall color. Her gaze lingered as they passed beneath the branches of a tree with emerald green foliage punctuated with branches of vivid scarlet. Turning back she caught him staring at her again.

He'd watched her for most of the drive over, not that she'd let on that she'd noticed. It didn't get under her skin the way it normally might have. After all, no one she knew was around to notice his attention and she found herself enjoying it. _A little,_ she amended to herself.

Out of the corner of one eye she saw his gaze wander to the wide front window of an artist's studio. He paused to point out several works he'd often admired. She listened with one ear while he expounded on their virtues. In the meantime, she admired another work of art, the curve of his jaw. She found herself wondering if their baby would have it as well.

Too late to pull her gaze away, he turned to find her staring and faltered in his description. For a long moment their gazes held. Her lips parted and her cheeks burned hot. Her eyes dropped to his lips and she found herself fascinated by their dusky rose color. Her gaze darted back to his; which seemed bluer than ever in the sunlight. She suddenly noticed how intense his focus had become and found herself leaning slightly toward him, yearning for the warmth already spreading through her, longing to feel her body pressed to his…

He seemed to be leaning in as well. His hand curved around her lower back…

She suddenly broke eye contact and pulled away. Biting her lip, she could feel her cheeks burning hotter. She looked everywhere but at him.

They fell into step again, much to her relief. The last thing she needed was eye-sex in public. Biting her lip she admitted to herself that was exactly what happened, and questioned the wisdom of this _date_ with Castle. Usually, murder cases kept them busy and when they were together; too busy to be sidetracked by—other things.

"Where are we going exactly?" Her cheeks still felt hot.

He didn't answer immediately, as he seemed to be having trouble tearing his eyes away from her. "Uhm, um, Bubby's.

She raised a sardonic brow, "Bubby's? For a _spiritual_ breakfast?"

"Bubby's is a Tribeca _treasure_. They serve only the _finest_ ingredients with _organic_ meat and their recipes weren't collected, no. The owner bribed, negotiated and _stole_ family recipes from—"

"I've heard of Bubby's. It's loud and the liquor prices are higher than the Empire State Building."

"True, but_,_ I have a special arrangement with the manager." He would say nothing more on the matter until he'd led her passed the outdoor seating and directly to the bar inside. A heavily tattooed waitress palmed the flash of green he offered her after a brief word and disappeared in the back.

It _was_ loud. It seemed every family in lower Manhattan had arrived for brunch and between the raised voices trying to be heard over the din and clatter of silverware on stoneware, Kate didn't relish trying to have an intimate conversation in the very public dining room.

Rick leaned closer, his lips brushing her hair over her ear and his hand slid around her waist. Ostensibly it was to be heard, but Kate suspected the noise was more an excuse to draw her into a near embrace. "Bubby keeps a special room for the shyer customers. She's getting it ready now." His breath tickled her ear and she nodded, very much aware of his warmth.

He drew back but his hand lingered at the small of her back and her eyes were drawn to his. Her breath quickened as she took in his smoky blue eyes, so close—and so public. She tore her gaze away, staring around at the crowded dining room, each table brightly decorated with freshly cut chrysanthemums.

"Ricky!"

The manager was as thick as he was tall and he clapped Castle on the shoulder, the highest point he could reach, Kate didn't doubt. "You been away too long. Where you been?"

Castle grinned down at the olive complected man, who barely came to his chin. "Personal business, Mario."

Kate's eyes lingered on Rick, noticing the laugh lines appearing around his eyes. Castle had a lot of acquaintances, but he obviously liked this one a lot.

His hand, still lingering on the small of her back, applied just enough pressure to draw her closer to him in a movement that was at once proprietary and welcoming.

"And who is zis?" Mario turned to her, taking one of her hands in both of his. His warm brown eyes snapped with good humor and she immediately liked him.

"Mario, this is Detective Kate Beckett." There was a note of smug pride in his voice as he introduced her which she filed away for later examination. "Kate, Mario Espinoza, Bubby's manager."

Mario's eyes were huge. "You bring Detective Beckett to Bubby's?" Not waiting for a reply, he clasped one of her hands in both of his meaty palms. "Ah, Detective Beckett, I am so pleased to meet you!" Mario's pride erupted as his chest expanded to near global proportions. "Come. I have special table for you. Is quiet." Mario waggled his fingers at them, indicating they should follow.

The back room, if it could be called that, was tiny. The rough brick walls were punctuated with openings that appeared to Kate to be defunct pizza ovens. Whatever doors that once covered them were gone; their dark maws now were adorned by silk gladiolas and lilies.

Castle helped slide her chair in at the single table before sitting across from her; the flickering candlelight throwing moving shadows across his face. There was an awkward moment after Mario disappeared, where they stared across the table at each other. It was she who broke the silence. "Mario seems—friendly." She sipped her ice water. "You've told him about me." It wasn't a question.

He shrugged. "No more than anyone else." He shook out his linen napkin, laying it across his lap. "I used to bring Alexis here for brunch when they first opened. But they've gotten so popular. You saw what it's like." He gestured toward the dining room and she nodded. These days, I mostly sneak in the dead of night with a notebook to work through sticky story spots."

"You don't write on your laptop?"

"Mostly. But there's a lot of distractions. Forums, games, email, internet; there's nothing like a pen, a crisp new notebook and a piece of apple whiskey crumb pie for working through the awkward parts."

"But you haven't been here lately," Kate surmised and Rick leaned back in his chair, his eyes crinkling up in the corners.

"Not lately," he agreed complacently.

Kate opened her menu, reviewing the brunch offerings. "How's the smoked salmon?" Glancing up, she found him watching her. Still.

"Delicious," was his immediate reply. When she refolded her menu and returned his stare he smiled. "How many places have you seen?"

She was spared answering by the arrival of Mario who graciously took their order.

"Apartments?" she clarified, a moment later and at his nod, she made a face. "Too many."

"Where are you looking?"

"Brooklyn today." She sighed. "I'm not finding _anything_ in Manhattan."

Rick nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching. He seemed on the verge of speaking but changed his mind about something. "How many bedrooms?" he asked at length.

"One," she looked up suddenly. "Oh—God! I'm going to need two bedrooms."

"We've got time." Rick interjected smoothly.

She ignored the _we_ as she twiddled her fork. It was hard enough finding an affordable one bedroom apartment in New York City. What would she do when the baby needed his or her own space? She bit her lip, frowning at the low burning candles. Stubbornly, she refused to consider asking Castle for help. She'd find a way. Somehow.

So absorbed was she in her thoughts, she failed to notice the soft smile on Castle's face as he watched her brood.

"How are you on furniture?"

"My living room furniture was destroyed in the bombing, as you know. But insurance paid for it." She made another face. "Eventually."

"Your studio came furnished?"

She nodded. "My bedroom furniture survived the blast. But that's it."

"That's not _all._" He put in, teasing her, "I'd hate to think of your coat collection going up in smoke."

A whimsical smile played over her lips as Mario appeared with two breakfast platters.

"At least I'll get to do some furniture shopping with my insurance money once I'm settled." She picked up a knife and began slathering a toasted bagel with creamy cheese.

Talk turned to other things then. She caught him up on the juicer bits of gossip around the precinct, which he'd missed in his absence: Stegner and L.T.'s rather public breakup, and the growing evidence of a romance between Lanie and Esposito. He in turn, filled her in on Martha's delight at being cast as Ouiser in The Palace's revival of _Steel Magnolias._

The breakfast dishes were long since cleared away when Kate reluctantly checked her watch. "It's almost eleven. I need to—"

Rick stood abruptly, "I'll take you to your appointment but first I have to show you something."

"Rick, I—"

"No arguments. You need to see this."

She glowered at him, but he was unsinkable. He did however, change his tactic. "It won't take long, and you can drive my Ferrari to your appointment."

Her lips twitched. "The Ferrari, huh? With or without a _chaperone_?"

"With." He dropped a crisp hundred on the table as he grasped her elbow, guiding her toward the exit. Kate raised her brows at the more than generous tip but did not argue.

In the sunlight again, she glanced at him quizzically. "So what is it?"

He did not break his stride, only smiled pleasantly as he stared straight ahead. "A surprise. You're going to love it."

She gave a delicate snort, "I hate surprises."

"Well, you'll love this one."

"I'm pretty sure I won't." She frowned, glancing at him sideways. "What is it?"

But he refused to tell, only stating cryptically "Everything will make sense when you see it."

He breezed through the foyer of his building. She barely saw the doorman nod to them before he'd whisked her into the elevator, punching the button for the third floor.

"Castle?" She frowned.

"Hmmm?" His eyes did not move as he watched the floor indicator.

"Why are we going to the _third_ floor? You live in on the _fourth_ floor. And you'd better not say it's a surprise."

His lips twitched. "Alright."

"What?"

"I won't say it."

The elevator chimed and the stainless steel doors slid open to reveal the demure elegance of the third floor. He stepped off.

She did not.

"Kate?"

A growing uneasiness was grabbing hold of her belly and her eyes narrowed. "What is this?"

His smile was patient as he leaned on the edge of the door to keep it from closing. "This won't take long," he promised. "Come see what I've been working on." He extended his hand to her.

Kate drew in a deep breath and let it out, taking his hand just as the elevator began a low resonant chime.

Neither spoke as they made their way down a long corridor, Castle digging in his pants pocket for something. At last he stopped in a doorway, a key in his hand. Without a look or a word to her, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Light from the hallway spilled into the foyer, revealing bare hardwood flooring.

Kate looked from the dark, apparently empty apartment to his triumphant face.

"Welcome home."

The entry was small, hallways and closed doors mostly. She chose one at random, her heels echoing on the gleaming hardwood. Light flooded the empty living room as he flipped a switch somewhere. It wasn't large, not like Castle's mammoth sized loft one level up. She took in the exposed brick wall punctuated with generous windows, a high ceiling, and a bay window, ideal for curling up with a book. A modern kitchen with granite countertops… stainless steel appliances… she glimpsed a dishwasher…

"Oh my God," she breathed.

Castle slid a door open to a small closet off the kitchen. "Washer/Dryer," He indicated with a thumb. "We can't have you running down to switch the laundry over with a baby napping." He glanced at the stacking unit inside. The doors slid silently closed.

He watched her turn in place, trying to take everything in. He crossed back to the hallway, "There are two bedrooms through here. And _wait _till you see the master suite." His grin was infectious, flooding his voice with excitement.

Stunned, she followed him down the hallway, pausing as he pointed out features of each room and a bathroom just off the entry. "Look at this," he grabbed her hand in his excitement, dragging her through the master bedroom to the bathroom. A sunken tub, designed for two, dual sinks, _and_ a shower stall equipped with no less than five sprayer heads. She gaped at the excess but he was too wrapped up in pointing out details to notice.

"See the extra long counter space? Perfect for baby care. Bookshelf within easy reach of the tub…" He walked over to stare down at the tub. "I might have one of these installed at my place."

"Castle—" she grabbed his arm, as he faced her. "What is this? Am I supposed to _live_ here?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "Yeah, it's for you. And the baby." His face softened as he watched her absorb that.

_The baby…_ _their _baby. Her hand dropped away from his sleeve. She tried to turn away but mirrors on every wall showed Castle watching her, too much tenderness in his eyes. She leaned both hands on the bathroom counter squeezing her eyes shut. _No,_ she protested to herself.

A moment later, his muffled voice called from outside the bathroom door. "You'll love this, _two_ walk-in closets; one for your _jackets_ and _another_ for your _shoes_."

She followed him into the short hallway separating the master bedroom from the bathroom. Where he indicated two open doors. One of them boasted a plethora of small cubby's, perfect for shoes. She flicked on the closet light for a closer look.

He grinned at her then meandered out of the room. He called out a moment later, "Do you think it's too early to paint the nursery?"

_Oh my God!_ Kate's mind shut out his question, refusing to acknowledge it. She stared around the master bedroom, reeling. _It's beautiful. It's perfect._ She could _never_ afford it.

She wandered back through the hallways, finding herself in the great room. A gift basket waited on the kitchen counter. She peered through the cellophane to see a bottle of sparkling cider, crystal goblets, several boxes of tea, a couple of mugs… A small card was attached to the outside with her name on it. She fumbled with it as she pulled it out. She bit her lip as she recognized his handwriting.

_Welcome home._

_-Rick_

His footsteps echoed on floor behind her. There was a brief pause and then, "I'll have my new interior decorator get in touch with you about painting." She didn't move or speak. "You'll like her, great lady by the name of Allie_ Sole._"

There was a faint jingle like keys or coins from his pocket but it did not seem to register with Kate. "I was thinking," Rick tried again; "The paint fumes wouldn't be the greatest thing for little Festus…" she still hadn't moved.

There was another pause. "Are you okay?" For the first time a note of uncertainty could be heard in his voice.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was quiet but held a tiny note of horror.

"What?"

"What have you done?" She dropped the note card on the counter and pushed it away from her.

"I found you an apartment—"

She turned to face him then, her face lined with stress and a cold note of anger crept into her voice. "An apartment I can _never_ afford."

"No," he acknowledged, "but _I_ can—"

She did not let him finish. "An apartment in _your_ _building_, Castle?" She asked incredulously. "That's pretty damn intimate. What is the gossip mill at the precinct going to say about me moving in here? About moving to _Tribeca?"_

They stared at each other for a long moment. He shifted his weight and was about to speak but thought better of it.

She shoved the gift basket away from her and dropped her face into her hands; her elbows on the counter.

After a long moment, he took a tentative step toward her, his brow furrowed. "Kate, I—"

"Did you _buy_ this place without even _telling_ me?" she straightened abruptly, and leveled a direct stare at him, as though the answer mattered to her, very much.

"No—" he hedged.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but she did not speak.

"Not exactly."

She took a step toward him with only a single-word reply. "Explain."

He nearly flinched. "Well, I—I didn't know this was available at first, and I put an offer on a place down the street…" He studied her face waiting for her reaction, but her interrogation mask had fallen into place, giving nothing away.

"_And?"_

"_And_, when I heard about this place, on Tuesday, I—I convinced the owner to sublet it to me—us," he amended.

"Lease?"

"Six months. But if you like the other apartment better, we can break this lease and—"

"Oh my God." She turned and walked away, but after two steps whirled to face him again. She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off.

"What did I _do_ that was so terrible? You like—"

Her voice hardened as she advanced on him. "You _found_ me an apartment—_two_ apartments, without consulting me." Her eyes flashed. "What if I don't want to be _kept_ by you? What if I don't _want_ to be living in your pocket?"

He held his ground, his voice gentle, "We're having a baby together—"

"Yes, I know we're having a baby together, Castle. And that doesn't give you the right to rearrange _my life_ to suit your preferences!"

"Kate—"

She shook her head emphatically. "This is _not_ about the baby!"

He stared at her as though seeing her for the first time. When he spoke his voice was quiet, "This is _all_ about the baby, Kate." His blue eyes were utterly serious "Would you rather find a place, _wherever,_ only to move again later?" He took a step closer. "Or do you expect me to uproot Alexis and follow you to… wherever you end up?"

She gaped at him, mouthing silent words of protest and shaking her head against the simple logic with which he'd defended his position.

His voice softened further. "Would you rather I pay child support than your rent? Because if that's what you'd prefer…"

She backed away from him, pushing her hair away from her face as she stared around the apartment, clearly overwhelmed. Her voice was low and there was uneven hitch to it as she muttered, "I have to go."

He was already reaching in his pocket for his keys. "I'll take you—"

"No. Thank you, Castle, but I'll take the subway."

His face drooped with disappointment and something more.

Seeing it, she bit her lip. "I—I need to be alone, Castle. I—it's too much, I need to think."

There was barely a flicker of response as he nodded. "Sure," he conceded, not meeting her eyes. "It's a lot to take in."

Her lips pressed together in a firm line. "I'll call you, in… I'll call you."

He nodded again, without meeting her eyes.

Her heels clicked on the polished hardwood floors as she headed for the door. She paused, just on the verge of leaving to look back at him. He hadn't moved, the dark shadow of his silhouette forming a pathway between them as the morning sun streamed in the windows at his back.

* * *

_Guess who finally shows up in Chapter 20? Tentatively titled, "Daddy, Get Your Gun…" _

_You know how much I love hearing from you. ______How did you like it? _ Favorite parts? Constructive criticism welcome. _____Please write a review. _


	20. Daddy Get Your Gun

_**June 1, 2011**_

_Remember to check here (author's note of the most current chapter) for current news on the story progress. So if you want to know what took so long, check Chapter 19. _

_You have reached the end of the middle, or the beginning of the end. Either way, I'm now approaching the part of the story where everything comes together in a neat package. As such, I'd love to attempt a rough draft of the story's conclusion before I update again. It would be nice to know I've wrapped up loose ends in one tidy bow, as well as get most of the waiting out of the way at one time. I'll let you know how it goes. _

_Many thanks to my beta readers, Nathan Fan, Corlando, Rhyolight, Gilmoradict and Ignacio2012 (who never actually gave me feedback on the chapter, but did, however, inspire the first draft of the chapter through a prior discussion… And thanks to those who helped me harass her about reviews!) I should probably mention my writer's circle who've been very patient about me bringing my somewhat trivial fan fiction into their erudite discussions_. :-D

_Disclaimer… Characters are not mine… You know the drill. _

* * *

_**Daddy Get Your Gun**_

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

_**Day31:**__ 235 days to go._

_Most women don't notice much change in their own bodies yet. When you first start to show your pregnancy, you'll start to bulge in your lower abdomen beneath your belly button. That's where your uterus is situated. _

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p25_

* * *

Kate Beckett descended the first broad expanse of steps into Manhattan's Riverside Park. She did not hesitate, nor wander, but her quick purposeful steps drew her to a deeply shaded cathedral of gold-leafed elm trees. It was a quiet place; attractive to those wishing to share peanuts with local squirrels, read, or contemplate in silence; or as close to silence as New York City gets.

"Dad!" Her pensive face broke into a smile as a tall man unfolded himself from the park bench.

He hugged her tightly, then pulled away, his eyes glowing as he looked her over. "You look well." The smile transformed his face, momentarily chasing any hint of melancholy away.

"You do too." She replied, as he folded his newspaper neatly, leaving it on the bench for the next visitor.

He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as they moved down the sidewalk. "How's the apartment hunting?"

She sighed, her brow knitting slightly. "I found a great little one-bedroom overlooking Prospect Park. There's laundry facilities in the basement, laminate flooring and a view of the park—from the _bathroom_." Her lips twisted in irony. "It's actually not a bad neighborhood. Groceries, diners, clubs a couple blocks over." Her voice trailed off.

Jim Beckett's hand brushed over a concrete railing as they descended a new flight of low stone steps to a lower level of the park. "And? Are you going to take it?"

"Yeah… yeah." She did not smile but pursed her lips instead. "My deposit is down and I pick up the keys on Friday."

He watched her, oblivious to the autumn foliage around them. "You don't sound very excited."

She sighed. "I _am_. It's a great apartment. It has a lot of character and it'll be fun decorating. It's just—" Tiny furrows appeared on her forehead as she stepped aside to let joggers pass. "It's just… I'll have to move again. I'm going to need a two-bedroom." Her voice was inexplicably soft.

Jim frowned, the lines of his brow a deeper, more mature reflection of his daughter's.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and then drew a deep breath. "Dad, I'm having a baby."

His head jerked up, as he stared at his daughter.

Turning to face him as she whispered, "I'm pregnant." She bit her lip as she met his eyes.

"Katie—" He cupped her shoulders. "Are you sure?"

Her mouth was a thin line as she gave a short nod, staring at the lapel of his jacket.

He pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms securely around her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and laid her cheek on her father's shoulder; dragging a sleeve across her face as she pulled away. They turned purposelessly down a quiet, meandering path, the silence stretching between them until at last he broke it.

"When are you due?"

"June 16th. I'm six or seven weeks, I guess." Her voice was low, thick with suppressed emotion.

Dad watched her intently. "Is the father in the picture?"

"—Yes." She drew in a deep breath. "Dad, it's Castle."

His eyebrows shot upward. "Castle. _Richard _Castle?"

"Yes."

His lips twitched and he rubbed his jaw to hide it. "Shall I get my shotgun?"

A smile flirted with the corners of her mouth, "That won't be necessary." Some of the tension eased out of her shoulders.

"How does Castle feel about this?"

"He— Actually, he's kind of excited." Her mouth puckered as though she wanted to smile and scowl simultaneously.

"Really?" He studied her profile.

"Seems that way."

They lingered at an overlook, staring down at the Hudson River, glistening in the late afternoon sun. _She_ stared. He watched her curiously.

"How do you feel about him?"

"Dad, I—" She glanced at him before frowning at the New Jersey Skyline. "I'm not sure. We _aren't_ dating. Not really." Her frown deepened. Then, "He can be very sweet, and generous." She shook her head in amazement as she continued. "And so freaking annoying. He _found_ me an _apartment_. He didn't _ask_ me if I wanted his help—"

"That's great."

Her frown reappeared. "Dad, it's in _Tribeca." _

"Tribeca?"

She nodded.

Jim stopped and faced her with a complicated expression. "He knew you needed a place and found you one in Tribeca, _because…?" _

Kate grimaced. "Because he wants to be_ involved."_

The corners of Jim's mouth twitched again and he rubbed his chin to hide it. "Well, we can't fault him for his motives."

"Did I mention the apartment is in _his building?"_ Her tone left no doubt her feelings on the subject.

"His building?" Jim repeated, his eyes widening before he turned away, rubbing his jaw again.

"Right," she muttered in answer.

"Well," Their shoulders bumped as they followed the windy path through the trees. "Either he's impulsive and didn't think it through—"

"God! You just described him to a T!"

"—or he's already committed to you."

Kate gaped at him.

Jim however, seemed unaware of the effect his words had on her. "What's the apartment like?"

"Umm, gorgeous. Spacious. _Luxurious." _She sighed heavily. "And out of the question."

"You're not going to accept it?"

"I can't live there like his _mistress_ or _paramour_ or…"

"—or the mother of his baby?" It was Jim's turn for sarcasm.

"Dad—"

"Do you have a problem with his paying child support?" His tone was mild, curious.

She frowned in reply.

"For a man of his means, a court-ordered child-support check would be substantial."

"_Yes_, and the courts would also order him to begin payment at _birth_—or at the very _earliest_ the third trimester. Dad, I haven't even had my first _doctor_ visit yet! Who knows what could happen between then and now! What if I have a miscarriage and I'm _stuck_ living in his pocket?"

"Then you move." But he sighed and nodded. "When is your first appointment?"

"A week from Thursday."

"Are you still seeing Dr. Sosa?"

Kate nodded wordlessly, then glanced over at him, noticing the deepened lines of worry appearing around his eyes. "Dad, it'll be fine. Dr. Sosa told me _years_ ago that Mom's problems are almost never hereditary."

He sighed heavily but his smile was forced. "That's good to hear." A hint of an old sadness lingered in his face.

A moment later she bent to pick up a golden leaf that appeared to be dipped in crimson. "Mom loved fall leaves," she mused.

"She did. I still think of her every time I see one like that."

She spun the stem between her fingers, smiling to herself. "She used to gather the prettiest for a fall bouquet."

"I still do. Sometimes." His voice was soft as he reached for another leaf from a low-hanging branch. Bold red veins contrasted sharply against brilliant green. He offered it to her without a word, a sad smile on his face.

Their eyes met and "Dad—" She hugged him tightly beneath the canopy of autumn trees. Only an occasional falling leaf marred the stillness.

The leaves rustled as they passed, arms still curled around the other's waist. At last he broke the quiet. "You love being with him." It was not a question.

There was a long silence as Kate's brows knit. Finally she admitted, "Yes."

His hands were gentle as he turned her to face him. "Are you in love with him, Katie?"

For a moment she couldn't speak as she stared into her father's eyes. "I don't know!" She grimaced, blinking rapidly as a single tear spilled over her cheek.

He nodded, brushing the tear away with his thumb before pulling her into his arms.

She was silent long after he released her. The words began to spill from her, haltingly at first but more quickly as they turned down a meandering side path away from other people.

"Remember when Kendra, got pregnant?" She swore he was the one; and she wanted to be with him for the _rest of her life_. They _swore_ it wasn't about the baby. That it was for _real._ They were married and divorced six months later."

"When they divorced, she admitted it was _all_ about the baby. There was never much else to the relationship. She just wanted it to be right so badly—she deceived herself." For the moment, they seemed truly alone on the curving pathway, as the brightly hued brush blocked any view of oncoming pedestrians.

"Dad, I don't want to make that mistake. I want what you and Mom had. It was real. It was strong. It—"

"It was a friendship; a partnership. But it didn't start out that way, Katie. Kendra and Grant didn't have time to develop a friendship. They rushed into it too quickly." The winding path gave way to a second cathedral beneath tall trees and wrought iron benches. "Let me ask, are you and Castle friends?"

She nodded.

"Good friends? Can you count on him?"

"As a friend? Yes." No hesitation.

"Well that's something." Jim considered a moment as he settled onto a bench. "Is that all it is?" His calm gray eyes searched hers.

"What do you mean?" She sat beside him.

"Is it just friendship? Is there something more?"

Kate shifted, looking anywhere but at him. "Dad, we—I mean—we're _having a baby_…"

"That's not what I mean. Is there a spark? Electricity? Or was it just convenient sex—"

"There's a spark." Two bright patches bloomed on her cheeks but he seemed not to notice.

When he spoke, his voice was gentle. "Is he in love with you?"

"I don't know, Dad." She watched a squirrel scamper across the sidewalk near their feet. "Sometimes it seems like he might be, but… He seems to want something. With me."

"What? He's been following you around for a year and a half and you don't know?" The side of his mouth quirked upward as he watched with amusement. He was smiling as he continued, "Tell me again why he dropped a hundred grand on finding Mom's killer? _Tell me again_ why he drops everything to follow you around New York City solving murders day after day, _night_ after _night_." He caught her in his steady, penetrating gaze and his tone softened, every trace of amusement gone. "It's like I always told you, Katie. Actions speak louder than words. What are his actions telling you?"

"His actions…" she mused, her eyes far away. Her hand slid beneath her jacket pressing against her belly, trying to still her nerves. _Could, could he be…?_

"Yes, his actions," he continued when she was quiet too long. The humor was back, softening the lines of his face. "Shall we further review the _evidence_?"

She grimaced and rose. "That's okay."

"Good." He grunted under his breath as he followed, still smiling. "I remember when he started shadowing you on your cases; how infuriated you were, and fascinated. You never wanted to tell me about your work before, either to protect me or yourself, I never knew.

"Then Richard Castle showed up. At first you only wanted to vent your irritation with him. But then, something changed in you, Katie." His pace slowed to match his flow of words. "You still didn't talk about your work a lot, but there was something new. A softness, a peace and an ease you never had before. The flow of murders don't get to you the way they used to. You smile more. Laugh more. You're happier." He smiled. "That alone says a great deal to me."

She let out a puff of air. "It sounds _great_ when you put it like that. But, I don't want to dive in over my head only to discover I'm in a relationship with a serial monogamist, who's incapable of nurturing a marriage past the five year mark."

Silence fell, broken only by the dry rasp of leaves scuttling along the sidewalk and muted sounds of traffic on the streets above the park.

"Do you believe that?"

"I—I don't know." She looked away, glimpsing the stream of joggers and bikers on the esplanade along the river's edge below.

"There are no sure bets in life, Katie." There's _always_ risk involved." He glanced at her, observing her lips pressed tightly together. His voice was quiet and calm. "You should talk to him about your fears."

The silence stretched between them as she frowned, lost in her thoughts.

Jim's gaze wandered over the bushes and trees draped in brilliant colors. At last he broke into her thoughts. "Who's helping you move?"

Her voice was brisk now, "No one yet. The team is on call next weekend, but Karpowski might cover for me. I need to be out by before Monday, the first."

"How much stuff do you have?"

"Not much. The psycho who blew up my apartment took care of that."

Jim smiled, laying an arm across her shoulders. "How about a father/daughter moving party. I'll bring a truck."

"I can get the truck, Dad." She argued.

"I know you can." He acknowledged. "But I want to help; it's a father's habit. You buy me dinner, I'll bring the truck." The lines crinkled around his eyes as he teased, "Or do you have to do _everything_ yourself?"

An answering smile appeared at last. "Deal." She linked her arm with his as they turned toward the park entrance.

* * *

_You know authors love hearing the reader's thoughts right? _

_So, what did you like? Favorite bits? Review? _


	21. Conflicting Parties

_****__**July 4, 2011**_

May I add that any Castle fans who have never seen the show Firefly are missing out on a ton of inside jokes from the show and fan fiction? Don't think about it, don't read the blurb, just go find it and try at least four episodes. If you're not hooked by then, well, you just have to try it. Then tell me what you thought.

Thanks and have a lovely Fourth of July, whether you're celebrating or not! :-)

* * *

_**July 1, 2011**_

___Remember, Jim Beckett volunteered to help Kate move at the end of Chapter 20._

_Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews. They always make my day! And thank you to Scully, for her feedback. _

_Not a lot to say. I was down for two and a half weeks in June with pneumonia which resulted in my kids going to camp without me and you getting this chapter sooner than planned. (You're welcome.) Chapters 22 and 23 are already roughed out, and much longer. _

* * *

**_Conflicting Parties_**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

_**Day 33:**__ 233 days to go. _

In the next four days, the hand plates will appear (each hand plate contains the tissues that will form the hands and fingers). The baby now measures about 1/3 of an inch (7-9 mm) in length.

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p 26_

* * *

Mobile Crime Scene Units and squad cars were pulling into the underground parking garage at John and Water Streets, making it obvious which building held the latest body to grace the murder board at the 12th Precinct. Technically the murder board would still be empty, Castle mused, but give Beckett's team an hour, and it'd be covered with growing amounts of information. He watched another squad car pull in and glanced around for a familiar dark sedan. Seeing none, he headed for the main entrance, until something else caught his eye.

Stepping closer to a café window, and out of the wind, he cocked an eyebrow at his own reflection in the plexi-glass. One corner of his mouth curved up and he ducked his chin in a rakish _come hither_ look, fluffing his windblown hair. Satisfied, he regarded himself for another moment, and then blew a kiss at his reflection.

"Getting a little hard up are you, Castle?"

Startled, he jerked his head up, turning his primp into a lame wave. "Detective Beckett, when did you get here?"

"L.T. spotted you as he pulled in and radioed me you were here. _He_ thought you looked lost." Kate smirked, stopping in front of him.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Lost? Me? In New York?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Her smirk faded somewhat and her eyes softened as she stared at him for a second before changing the subject. "I found a place in Brooklyn that will work for me."

His face became carefully still as he took a deep breath, his tone neutral. "Congratulations."

"Thanks." She caught her lower lip between her teeth, but her dark eyes seemed unfathomable. "And thanks for finding me a place, but—I won't need it."

His mouth opened as though he were about to speak but he hesitated. "I—overstepped, finding you that place. I—"

Her brow furrowed as she stared at his hands, before interrupting. "I thought it was sweet." She met his eyes then and he hesitated again, his mouth still open.

"Well… you're welcome." He took in every nuance of her expression, holding his head a little higher.

She rewarded him with a small smile and he fell in step beside her as they headed to the main entrance.

"So, when's the moving party?"

"This weekend."

"Can I help?"

"What?"

He spoke slowly, "With the move."

The grin she tossed his way was not quite a smirk. "Why, Castle, so you can bring _professional _movers and pass them off as your _friends_?"

"I resent that remark. I'd never insult your intelligence by—"

"Oh?"

"I'd pass them off as _fans."_

"Thanks but I've got it covered."

The smirk fell from his face. "How's that?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, reaching for the heavy doors to the towering office building. "I already have help, but thanks anyway."

"Who?" He held the door for her, eyes riveted on her face.

She cast a sidelong glance at him as she proceeded toward the bank of elevators in the back of the foyer. The corner of her lips twitched as he hurried to catch up.

"Ryan and Esposito?" he guessed.

Kate shook her head, eyes flicking over the elevator indicator panels, calculating which would arrive first while he watched her with a tiny frown. "They'll be on call Halloween weekend; which is to say, they'll be working. Karpowski is covering for me."

The crease between his eyebrows deepened as he gestured his confusion, "Who?"

The elevator opened and Kate didn't bother hiding her amusement as she glanced his way before stepping inside. "Why do you want to know?"

"I—just want to help. Why are you being so secretive?" he whispered sulkily, not wanting to be overheard by the elevator full of passengers.

"Maybe I have something to hide." She stared at the floor indicator panel, her expression peaceful.

They rode the elevator in relative silence until the last passenger got off. At last they found themselves alone as the car approached the higher floors.

She turned to him at last, "Alright, Castle. You want to help? I'm going to be shopping for some new furniture; a sofa, among other things. You can come."

His eyes lit up. "Really?"

A smile toyed with the corner of her mouth. "Yes. I wouldn't want you to be _uncomfortable_ when you visit us." Turning back to check their arrival, she almost missed the secretive smile. "But don't get any ideas about paying for anything."

He raised both hands, palm out. "Whatever you want."

Her eyes narrowed but he continued blissfully, "When are we going?"

"I'm moving this weekend, so next week sometime, depending on the caseload." She still watched him suspiciously.

"Ah," Castle interrupted holding up his index finger. "Don't forget to make time for my Halloween party. I'm setting the—um, _extra_ apartment up as a haunted house and I managed to get Sally Hamilton to cater. Her clam risotto is to _die_ for and her—"

"Castle, I'm moving this weekend. I'm not coming."

The elevator door gave a soft hiss as it opened on the 74th floor. Castle looked scandalized. "You _have_ to come! The mayor is coming and David Duchovny is bringing—"

"I'm going to be sweaty and exhausted and there's no possible way I'd have a costume ready."

She nodded to the uniforms in the hall as she passed. Ryan and Esposito were visible through glass panels on either side of heavy double doors, interviewing office workers.

"I've got it!" Castle snapped his fingers and stepped in front of her, effectively barring her progress. "I have the perfect costume for you! You can shower at the loft before the party and—"

"Castle—" She paused, frowning at him until curiosity got the better of her. "What is it?"

"It's never even been worn—"

"_What is it?"_

His mouth hung open for the space of a heart beat before he answered, rushing the words together. "A space hooker. You—"

Her eyes widened as she gaped at him. "A space—_No."_

"It's more like a space _geisha. _Sexy not slutty. Well, maybe a _little_ slutty."

She brushed by him and pulled the door open, entering the lobby ahead of him. "Was it one of your rejects from last year?"

"Ha ha, funny. It came as a package deal with my space cowboy costume."

She frowned. "The one with the suspenders?"

He nodded and she shook her head. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation right now." Esposito looked up and hooked his thumb indicating where she could find the body.

"You'll come?" Castle was unrelenting.

"No. I'm busy."

He opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off.

"Crime scene, Castle, dead body. Let's focus."

"Alright but you can sleep over—" Beckett's glare cut him off. "Right. Crime scene."

* * *

_**Happy Fourth of July** weekend to you American-types, and **Happy Canada Day** to the Canucks. To the rest of the world, enjoy a normal weekend!_

_So, what did you like? Favorite bits? Review?_


	22. On Coffee & Cleavage

_**Author's Notes**_

_****__**September 20, 2011**_

_Two important updates: I am changing my pen name. See my profile for details. _

_Also, this will probably be my last author's note style update. I am now using **Twitter** to give updates on my writing. Follow me at twitterdotcom/#!/**Bren_Williams** for the latest news on AGAOP and other stories. Substitute a period for the word _dot_ on the web address._

* * *

_**September 15, 2011**_

_Chapter 23, good shape, not yet done._

_Chapter 24, practically done._

_Chapter 25, beginning the second draft today! _

_Subtext (new story) Final chapter is practically done. It'll be up in a day or two. _

_It's been a busy week, writing wise. I'll be bringing chapter 25 to my writer's group September 27th. That's the week I'll begin publishing this segment of AGAOP! _

_FOUR MORE DAYS till the Season Four Premier! I'll be serving home made Castle style pizza, Monday night. Whole wheat crust with a mixture of pesto, pressed garlic and olive oil as a sauce. Slices of roma tomatoes, maybe some artichoke hearts, zucchini, onion, and spinach... topped with cheese and sprinkled liberally (after it comes out of the oven) with roughly chopped fresh basil leaves. _

_Now I just need to find a Castle Cake pan and the insanity will be complete on Monday night! _ : - )

* * *

_**September 2, 2011**_

Last week I posted the first chapter to a new post-finale fic, _Subtext_. I plan to keep _Subtext_ short, because delivering babies should really be my focus... HERE. The truth is, I'm frustrated with chapter 23 and working on something else is therapeutic. More later.

* * *

_**August 25, 2011**_

_I updated my profile with a coherent summary of my writing plans in the immediate future. Take a peek if you're interested._

* * *

_**August 16, 2011**_

There's quite a coffee history informing the characters' interaction in this chapter. In order to catch the subtleties of Castle and Beckett's relationship, one must recognize the role of coffee, which serves as a barometer for affection between them.

**Important Background,** in season one, Beckett wouldn't go near the cappuccino machine Castle provided. "It annoys me." she told him. Later, when he's grown on her a while, she steals his coffee. He whimpers a bit but lets her have it.

In season 2, Castle consistently brings her coffee, a sign of his affection. But in the season finale, when things got awkward between them (complicated by the significant others), he showed up with coffee for one. Beckett noticed, wasn't happy, and had Esposito bring her a cup later. Castle wasn't pleased.

In the season 3 opener, Beckett tried to hide her pleasure when Castle shows up to work on the case with coffee for two. In later episodes, she starts bringing *him* coffee. A sign of her growing affection for him.

All of this is quite subtle. But the Nikki Heat episode was much more overt. Castle shows up with coffee for two, Natalie Rhodes assumes one is hers and steals it. Beckett starts to wig out. "It's only coffee" he consoles her privately. Beckett responds, "What's next, my *soul*?" The next day, when he offers her coffee, she grills him, thinking he'd slept with N. Rhodes. When Rhodes shows up, Beckett grabs her coffee and drinks from it, as though she's jealous and afraid of losing it again.

So, if you're wondering what's up with Rick, look at what's going on with the coffee.

* * *

_**August 14, 2011**_

_Thank you for the reviews. You guys are just the best! Also, a big thank you to my beta readers, who're now too numerous to name! Your feedback is invaluable to me. _

_These characters aren't mine… you know the drill. _

* * *

**_On Coffee & Cleavage_**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

**_Day 42:_**_ 224 days to go. _

_The baby's kidneys are beginning to produce urine. Today, the critical period for your baby's arm development has ended. The arms are now at their proper location and proportional size for this stage in development. The only task left is to complete the development of the hands._

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy, p31_

A ray of golden sunlight broke through the tall west Manhattan buildings, shining into the 12th precinct and illuminating the highlights of Katharine Beckett's hair. She sighed as she snapped a case file closed, and leaned back in her chair.

Without a fresh homicide, she and the boys were re-examining old files for fresh leads. What they found was fresh frustration. Nothing new, nothing changed, and no answers for those left behind. Kate _hated_ cold trails, nonexistent answers, and that feeling of hopeless/hollow rage every time she faced a cold case with no developments to follow. She sighed again. As if that wasn't bad enough, Castle was rarely around on these days. She'd never admit it, but sometimes, she longed for his perspective on the cold files. That, and she missed him.

Fresh homicides were full of leads and possibilities. Even when Castle sat one out, those were the good days: a day where she felt effective and on top of her game. But when they closed a case and Castle went home… She'd take a steaming cup of coffee (or _tea_) and open an unsolved, like Marty Dickerson's, and the old feelings would threaten to drown her. She'd take deep breaths, push the emotions aside and search for that one lead, that one bit of information that'd been overlooked. If she were lucky, she'd find something. More often she wouldn't and she'd struggle to keep her own frustration and hopelessness, left over from her mother's unsolved murder, at bay. It would be then when she'd secretly long for her good luck talisman.

Castle. With his enthusiasm and hopeful view of the world, he frequently kept the despair that always leaked out of those worn, dog-eared folders at bay. Not that she'd ever tell _him_ that. Or that she'd ever explain the way she felt when she called him with a new homicide.

New homicides always brought a grim determination to find answers for her vic. But these days, anticipation began to build as the phone rang in her ear, waiting for him to pick up. Sometimes she'd hang up after giving him the particulars on a new body, finding herself smiling, with excitement singing in her veins. It was only then she _might _admit to herself, she was in way deeper than she'd ever dreamed, but only for a moment.

This was one of those times.

Another unsolved file on her desk, the words swimming in front of her eyes as she silently watched the hands of her watch crawl toward her next date with Castle.

Not that it was a date. Just shopping. For furniture… She didn't have to tell Lanie her plans to know the look _that_ revelation would have gotten. Furniture shopping with Castle… He was _helping_ her. Since he'd stated his intention to be around often once the baby was born, she was doing him a favor by allowing him input.

Hell, she just wanted to close the damn file and see him. She sighed a third time, and scowled at her watch. An hour to go. She had plenty of overtime! Be damned if she'd wait another moment.

She scribbled a note to Ryan to investigate the phone records of a certain person of interest and dropped it on his desk.

"You leavin'?" Esposito asked in surprise.

"Yep." She did not elaborate.

Ryan appeared at that moment. "If Beckett's leaving early she must have a hot date. Wonder who…" He and Esposito exchanged a look as Kate dragged her purse out of a drawer and tugged her navy pea coat on, ignoring them.

"Must be Castle." There was a wicked gleam in Esposito's eye.

Kate's mouth dropped open as though she was about to retort, but she closed it again and slung the bag over her shoulder.

"Ah—" Ryan made a sound of agreement, grinning as he watched her go. "It's totally Castle."

Her mouth was a thin line as she turned to leave.

"Yo, Beckett."

She paused and Esposito lowered his voice so only the three of them could hear.

"Got a boy name for you." He smirked, lounging in his desk chair. _"Windsor."_

"Windsor?" Ryan repeated.

"_Windsor_ _Castle!"_

"Oooo. How about naming him after his dad," Ryan grinned. _"Blarney!"_

_"Blarney?_ How is that naming him after his dad?"

"Clearly, Castle kissed the _Blarney_ stone _at_ Blarney _Castle_…"

"That's lame, bro."

"Wha-C'mon! He's a _writer!_ You never-it's an old Irish expression…"

Kate rolled her eyes and walked away. "You two should audition for the _comedy circuit."_

* * *

Outside, Kate took several deep breaths, rolling her shoulders as she savored the cool breeze blowing up the street.

She needed this, to get away after the third day in a row of cold cases. Knowing Castle would be meeting her— She squashed the thought. Rick Castle had nothing to do with her suddenly improved mood, she told herself sternly.

In fact it was better this way, leaving early, so she could nip in somewhere for a caffeine fix. Not that she allowed herself much of a fix these days. She lengthened her stride, joining the throng of pedestrians descending into the subway, reminding herself how much she valued a little time alone. Castle's blue eyes swam before her momentarily. She'd hit Times Square first and grab a tea before meeting him at Macy's Home Store. He wouldn't be looking for her this soon anyway.

_Hell._ She snapped her phone open and a moment later it rang in her ear.

"Castle."

"It's Beckett," she informed him, sounding for all the world like she was calling him about a body dropping.

"Detective Beckett," his voice lowered invitingly, "Are you calling to remind me about our date?"

She had to bite her lip to keep the smile out of her voice. "It's not a date. You're _helping_ me with—"

"Some furniture shopping. Yes, I know. But who picks out furniture together if they're _not_ dating?"

She heard the question in his voice and let it go answered. She'd continually asked it of herself since issuing the invitation last week.

"So I'm off a little early," she hedged. She hadn't thought out how this would go.

"Are you hungry?"

She bit her lip to keep from smiling again, loving the idea of dinner with Castle. "I had a late lunch," she admitted. "Do you want to meet me at Macy's Home Store at 45th Street and Avenue of the Americas? I can be there in thirty."

"Fine. I'll see you then."

There was a brief pause where neither spoke. Then, "Okay, I'll see you," her voice lowered and just a wee bit husky, "Bye."

"Bye."

She slid the phone in her pocket, a whimsical smile lingering on her face as she did.

Luck favored her and she found herself at Times Square almost ten minutes earlier than planned. Smiling to herself, she glanced around for a coffee shop. Maybe she'd surprise Castle with a caffeine fix—or was that too forward, she mused.

She set a quick pace, wondering whether the strong scent of coffee would set her stomach off. The first few weeks of her pregnancy had been touch-and-go, but the waves of nausea had since subsided. She decided to chance it.

The Starbucks was just as she recalled it, tucked between a parking garage and an Italian kitchen. She slid into the crowded shop and inhaled deeply. The rich aroma of roasted coffee beans smelled heavenly. She smiled to herself in sheer enjoyment as she joined the end of a long line. Two coffees, one decaf, she decided generously, imagining Castle's surprise as she presented him with his own cuppa joe after weeks of abstinence on her behalf. She was musing over his coffee preferences when a chance overheard conversation caught her attention.

"Derrick Storm was such a he-man: tough, smart, scarcely showed his soft-side; scarcely _had_ a soft-side. Nikki Heat seems to have a sensitive quality; a depth to her character that I've never noticed in your books before." The speaker, a professionally dressed blonde, stood several customers ahead, talking to…

Kate gave a start of recognition as Castle's voice carried to her ears.

"Probably true, but I've never based a main character on a real person before."

"Nikki Heat is based on a real person?" Surprise raised her voice.

Kate heard every word distinctly and saw the back of Castle's head as he nodded in reply.

"She must be amazing."

He turned toward the woman then, giving Kate a glimpse of his ear and one cheek bone. He seemed to be smiling, but his answer was unintelligible over the sudden coughing fit of a customer standing between them.

Kate clenched her teeth, wondering what he'd said.

The attractive blonde looked thoughtful as she moved blindly forward in line.

He was undoubtedly getting her something, and ordinarily, she'd cut in line with him. but the intruding female kept casting surreptitious looks his way… Kate stood rooted to her place in line, watching in morbid fascination as one, and then the other, ordered and moved to the end of the counter to await their drinks. His back was to Kate, but she had a clear view of the blonde, who now stared at him outright, a smile playing over her lips.

Kate's stomach clenched in knots. It was the Ellie Monroe debacle all over again. That same sick feeling… She half hoped the taste of the coffee would do what the smell had not and send her home with waves of nausea. She ordered anyway, turning to catch sight of a Starbucks barista setting identical cups on the hand-off table. Castle's usual, no doubt.

The pair moved in tandem, Castle reaching for the teas as Blondie laid a hand on his arm. "I'd _love_ to have your autograph. Please?" Her smile bordered on seductive.

He hesitated a split second, and Beckett only just heard his standard response as he reached into his jacket for his ever-present marker. "Where would you like it?"

Furrows appeared on Kate's forehead and her lips thinned as she faded further into the background and out of Castle's line of sight.

Blondie's demure smile blossomed into something more inviting as she drew back her jacket lapel, revealing a lovely décolleté and a generous expanse of skin.

Kate's frown deepened as she remembered watching beautiful women surrounding Richard Castle at every book signing she'd ever attended, each walking away with his signature just above the swell of her breast. _Call me when you're ready to wash that off,_ he'd whisper before he turned to the next.

This time he surprised her.

He hesitated, marker in hand. For all his reputation as a playboy, he seemed uncertain. Not that she could be sure with only a partial view of his profile to go on.

"How about this?" he asked but Kate could not see what he referred to. All she knew was Blondie blushed and stuttered as he bent his head over a small object.

"That's… that's actually my sister's… She left—I'm taking it to her…"

"No worries." He presented the autographed baby bottle with a flourish. Kate just glimpsed his dimple as he teased, "It's practically the _same thing_."

Crestfallen and red-faced, she muttered her thanks and shoved the bottle back into a pocket of the diaper bag Kate now noticed hanging over her shoulder. Blondie finally reached for her latté. "It was nice to meet you," she murmured.

"Likewise." He stowed his marker inside his sports coat, apparently without glancing at her.

Blondie was nearly to the door when Kate finally approached him, "Hey, Castle."

"Kate!" he exclaimed turning toward her, his smile at once warm and genuine.

She was gratified at how quickly she claimed his attention, which had nothing to do with the pleasure she took in glimpsing Blondie, who was _not_ smiling, leave the shop.

Castle, however, was. His eyes softened as he took in her appearance. "I'm surprised to see you here. Doesn't the smell make you nauseous?"

She gave a noncommittal shrug, not meeting his eyes for long, "Not so much anymore."

He cocked a brow as he gestured to the twin beverages still awaiting him. "Tea? Or are you back to your _old tricks_?"

"Um…"

A barista set a third cup on the table. "Nonfat, decaf latté, one pump sugar-free vanilla."

He stared at Kate's order, his eyebrows raised.

Kate drew a deep breath before answering, "No, thanks." She collected and sampled her coffee, her eyelids fluttering as she sighed in satisfaction.

His face was flushed as he looked from the cup to Kate, something raw and unexpected in his eyes. She withered slightly under his stare, inwardly cursing herself for not anticipating this new wrinkle. If she'd just gotten him one too…

An invisible veil seemed to have fallen over him at the unintentional snub. His eyes fell on the pair of teas, still waiting on the table. "Looks like we have an _uninvited guest."_ There was an edge to his voice.

He collected his beverages and gestured for Kate to precede him out the door. As she pushed it open, she heard the unmistakable thump, thump of two large, full cups dumped into the trash and sighed inwardly, the lingering coffee taste turning foul in her mouth.

"So, you're drinking coffee again." His tone was clipped.

Hers was noncommittal. "Apparently." She kept her eyes straight ahead.

"No nausea?"

"None."

"How long has this—"

"This is the first time I've tried it." The corners of her lips pulled downward and her brow furrowed slightly as they rounded the corner. She stole a glance at him, noting the deep creases in his forehead and the downturned mouth. _Great. Now he's upset. How in the hell did this happen? _Kate wasn't sure what she wanted, but she knew it wasn't this awkwardness and confusion.

She sighed and pitched her full coffee into a nearby trash can. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Who was that?"

"Who?"

"The blonde, in Starbucks."

"The blonde—Is _that_ what this is about?" She could feel him watching her.

Her gaze darted toward him then skittered away. "No, I—Don't be ridiculous. I'm just _curious_—"

But he'd stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and faced her. To do anything other than stop would be churlish.

"You're _jealous_."

"No, I—"

"You're _jealous_ because a pretty blonde tried to _pick me up_ in Starbucks."

She frowned. "In your dreams."

"Sure," he answered knowingly as he fell into step beside her.

"She's a fan," he finally told her a moment later. "She wanted to talk about my characters. That's all." He gave an offhand shrug as though the whole interaction was unimportant.

_Perhaps it was,_ she wondered to herself. Was she was making nothing into something? "Why didn't you sign her chest?" she muttered, scanning the crowd.

His gaze lingered on her profile.

She pretended not to notice.

"I didn't want to." He shrugged again, glancing around the square.

It was her turn to study him and when she spoke her voice was calm and measured. "Why not? A beautiful woman is into you. _Why not_ indulge in a little _harmless flirting?"_ It was her interrogation tone.

From the look he gave her, he'd noticed, and remained tight-lipped and grim.

Her voice was low, "Castle—"

He stopped to face her, in the middle of the busy sidewalk, his blue eyes were intense. "Because I'm not _that guy_, anymore."

All around them, commuters brushed past tourists snapping pictures and street vendors hawking their wares while the silence stretched between them. They were oblivious even to the raucous calls of a gang of teenage boys jostling each other nearby.

She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, wet her lips, then finally, "Rick—" Her voice was soft, tentative as she searched his eyes.

He took a tiny step closer, reaching for her… but stumbled into her instead.

"Castle?"

"What the hell…?" Castle growled as they steadied each other.

A pimply faced kid lay on the concrete where Castle had stood seconds before. He quailed under Castle's glare. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, man." The boy's friends hooted and snickered as he scooted away.

Kate looked the group over more thoroughly, wondering how she'd lost track of what they were doing, like some rookie cop. She barely heard Castle's queries as she assessed the boys for possible threats. They were tourists, judging by the multiple cameras and several matching T-shirts. A musical group, maybe. Most of them looked away from her stare and even those laughing the loudest moved away as though embarrassed, or guilty of immaturity.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she answered Castle with one last scan of the crowd around them.

"They look like tourists."

"They are." She turned to him, her mouth open to speak further, but an odd smile toyed with her mouth as she took in the nuances of his expression. He looked positively forbidding as he scowled at the backs of the boys, their voices muted now but no less excited.

"You can look very intimidating when you want to."

The grimness vanished instantly. "I can?" His eyes rounded in surprise.

Kate nodded, still smiling. "Did you see that kid scuttling as far from you as possible?" He drew himself to his full height, shoulders back, and… did he just puff out his chest? Kate stifled a giggle as she turned away, shaking her head to herself. "Let's go."

"Right." They set off again, Castle swaggering slightly as they went. They hadn't gone far when something new captured his attention. His gaze lingered on a purple storefront.

"It would be fun to do a little shopping in _there."_

She looked up and he inclined his head in the direction of…

"Babies'R'Us?" Her eyes widened in surprise.

A grin was already spreading across his face. "Have you ever been inside?"

"No—"

"Let's go."

"But, my sofa…"

"We'll furniture shop afterwards. It'll be fun." His boyish grin was infectious but she hesitated, torn between her plans and the temptation Rick now offered.

It was suddenly clear that the crossroads for her evening was a microcosm of the crossroads in her life. Should she stick to the plan, making safe, predictable decisions or take a risk with Castle? She shook her head to herself_,_ _No, they're separate issues_. But truly, what was the harm? Besides, with Rick along, it _would _be fun.

She finally answered his grin with a small smile of her own. He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the entrance.

* * *

_You know authors love hearing the reader's thoughts right? _

_ Review?_


	23. Awakening

_**October 4, 2011**_

_There are two phrases I hate typing, 'As Good As On Paper' and 'Babies'R'Us'. I am so glad to be done with the latter, and the former's days are numbered. Yay for that! _

_If you are one of those who is waiting for the end before rereading the whole story, this is a great time to start. From now till the end, the chapters will come swiftly. Twenty-four and five only require polishing. Twenty-four will be up in about a week. _

_Please follow me on Twitter **twitterdotcom/#!/Bren_Williams** for two reasons:_

_1. For news on my story updates and_

_2. To help me build a following. I hope to publish (and get paid for my writing) someday and if I can demonstrate the ability to develop a large following with fanfiction, it will give me an edge when approaching publishers. (Twitter plays a role in casting Castle guest stars too.) _

_A great many people generously offered feedback on this chapter. Thank you to all of them, and especially Gary, whose note took this chapter from mediocre to great, in my opinion! Of course, his note resulted in this chapter taking about five weeks longer to post, but who's complaining? You got a new story out of it right? (Subtext)_

* * *

_**Awakening **_

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**_

_**Day 42 Continued…**_

"We'll furniture shop afterwards. It'll be fun." Castle's boyish grin was infectious but Kate hesitated, torn between her plans and the temptation Rick now offered in the form of browsing in Babies'R'Us.

His grip was firm as he steered her toward the entrance. His hand was warm and she tried to ignore the way it felt with their fingers entwined. She chanced a glance at his profile. The confident smile was back, his eyes alert and excited as he reminisced about the fun of baby shopping. Richard Castle was clearly invested in this baby. Listening to him gush, tender feelings were trying to unfurl in her heart.

_God! Am I in love with him? Is he…? _ She bit her lip. Her father asked these same questions not two weeks ago, and she still felt unsure as to the answers.

She needed to know.

If Castle were in this for the baby alone, would he have given up flirting with beautiful women? Again, she saw his blue eyes blaze with a quiet intensity, heard him insist, _I'm not that guy anymore, _playing havoc with her judgment. Her heart raced within her and warmth unfurled like a new rose, greeting the dawn. The corners of her mouth twitched then grew into a tiny smile.

They were inside by then, his large hand still clasping hers as he guided her to an escalator.

She swallowed hard. _Wake up, Girl!_ God only knows what happened with his exes. Then there was Kyra. What happened?

"Toys'R'Us takes up the ground floor. Babies'R'Us is upstairs," he murmured, leaning closer than necessary. She chanced another look at him but his attention was completely absorbed by the steadily widening upstairs view.

She needed to know.

* * *

Babies'R'Us was an expectant parents' Mecca with every baby item imaginable. Along one wall, Kate glimpsed rows of strollers and car seats. A ginormous poster of a sleeping infant crowned the back wall, above cribs and the partial walls of nursery mock-ups, showing a myriad of the looks for decorating an infant's bedroom. In the center of it all were racks and racks of baby clothes.

"Wow," she whispered, not caring if he heard, not noticing how Castle watched her, a smile teasing the corner of his mouth.

"C'mon."

She trailed behind him as he headed for the baby clothes.

"_Look_ at the little turkeys covering the feet!" he gushed, lifting a caramel colored sleeper up for her to see. His eyes widened as he glimpsed the back. "_And…" _he turned it to show her the layers of multicolored ruffles covering the bottom, cleverly disguised as turkey tail feathers.

A corner of her mouth turned up but he was already heading for another rack, this one loaded with frilly Christmas dresses.

"Adorable!" he cooed, holding a burgundy velvet dress up for her inspection. She couldn't help smiling at his enraptured face as he lifted the hem to show her what lay beneath. "Look at _this_! Matching _bloomers!" _

She grinned at his enthusiasm. "What makes you so sure it's going to be a _girl_, Castle?"

He raised one brow and skewered her with a look. "Are you telling me you're not secretly hoping for a little _Johanna?_"

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Well, I—"

But he was already scanning the nearby racks. "To answer your question, _nothing,_ other than the fact that I'm surrounded by women and wouldn't know what to do with a boy.

"Besides, boy clothes? Boring. Now this?" There was the dull scrape of hangers on metal and then he held up a tiny tutu. _"This_ is where it's at. _This _is_ fun!"_ He shook it for emphasis and tucked it under an arm as he continued to flip through the clothes, looking for other styles.

Kate shook her head and wandered over to the rackshung with baby blue. "Castle, come see this!" she called a moment later.

He came, laden with a fistful of hangers bearing tutus and frilly dresses in multiple sizes and colors.

A smug smile curved her lips as she held up a baby blue sleeper, police badges over the feet and a matching bib with silver stitching stating, _Rookie_. Handcuffs and a pistol were embroidered on the bib as well and a fabric teether shaped like handcuffs completed the outfit.

"That—That's very cool. We'll take that one as well."

"Castle, we're not buying clothes today. We won't know the baby's sex for weeks."

"Are you telling me you're going to walk away from that _Rookie_ sleeper? You won't find it six months from now."

Her lips formed a silent O as she stared at the outfit in her hand. He added it to his armful, grabbing an extra, larger size from the back of the rack.

Kate glanced around. "Um—let's go look at…"

"Toys." Castle led the way to a corner of the store decorated in bright primary colors, still carrying his load of baby clothes.

Kate shrugged and followed, grateful they hadn't grabbed a cart or he'd have undoubtedly filled it up by now.

Twenty minutes later, Castle's brow was furrowed as he turned a large "C" shaped pillow over in his hands.

"What do you think it's for?" he asked her.

Kate pursed her lips as she considered how much to tell him. "I think it's to protect the baby while she learns to sit up."

A clerk looked up from where she was arranging a display. "That there's a Boppy, mistuh. It's a breast feedin' cushion."

Kate sighed as his head snapped up, his eyes wide. "A _what_ cushion?"

"It's a nursin' pillow. Ya know, tuh suppawt the baby when mom is nursin'."

Castle slowly faced Kate. "Are you—Did you—"

Before he could form a coherent question, the sales woman got off her knees and gave a furtive look around. "What gives? You work fuh Babies'Ah'Us aw somethin'?"

"No." They answered simultaneously.

She drew nearer, lowering her voice. "Then whatcha want is cawlled _My Brest Friend_."

His mouth fell open again, _"My breast—what?"_

Kate did not think it possible for his eyes to widen further.

"Yeah, My Brest Friend. It's curved like the Boppy, but it also has this ahm that wraps around yuh middle fuh keepin' the pillow securely in place." She glanced around, apparently watching for her manager, "But we don't carry 'em." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "You can try awderin' it online. Aw you can try the Baby Depot in Poughkeepsie. That's where I got mine."

She met Kate's eyes directly, enunciating carefully, "My Brest Friend. B-ah-E-S-T. Trust me!" A finger to her lips and she went back to her work.

Castle stared at the Boppy in his hands. "Well, that was… _informati__ve."_ He gave the cushion an experimental toss then turned to Kate. "This is definitely a product I could…" the corner of his mouth curved upward,_ "…latch on_ to."

Kate shook her head and walked away.

She wandered through shelves of bedding and passed displays of adorable layettes and comforters until she came upon a huge semi-circle of glider-style rocking chairs dividing the nursery furniture from the rest of the store. The modern version of a rocking chair came in all shades of natural wood and white with an even greater variety in upholstery. Kate selected a crisp white one with durable denim pillows and settled in.

She pushed against the floor, enjoying the gentle rocking motion, the smoothness… She leaned her head back against the cushion and let out a sigh, sliding her shoes off. She never wanted to get up again. Her eyes drifted closed as she rocked for several long moments. The tension eased out of her shoulders as one hand slid over her belly with an idle caress.

Concern began to line her forehead and her lips turned down as she pondered, not for the first time, the logistics of her future with a baby.

She heard him approach, the hangers clacking together in time with his footsteps. "You okay?" His voice was rough, deeper than usual.

"Yeah." She sighed again, looking up at him. "I was just trying to imagine how to juggle nursing with my career… _daycare…"_

"Ah." He chose the pink cushioned glider next to her. There was a long moment while they contemplated in silence. "It won't be so bad. You bring her to me on your way to work. We'll visit you at the precinct a couple of times during the day so you can see her, nurse if you want. When you get off work, come by the loft, eat dinner, and take her home."

Kate stared at him, barely seeing the jumble of baby clothes and hangers in his lap. "_You're_ going to be _Mr. Mom."_

"Of course." He said it matter of factly, as if there had never been any other option.

Her eyes widened. "But, what about your…" she stumbled, surprised at her anxiety at the thought of his absence beside her at the precinct, and in awe at his commitment to their child. "What about your _work_?"

He shrugged. "I've juggled writing and an infant before. There'll be naptime and evenings." His gaze wandered over the sleeping newborn poster hanging high on the back wall. "It may take a little longer to get the books out, but my readers know a good story is worth waiting for." His forehead was unmarred and he even smiled as he considered the future, and the current display of crib-sized comforters.

She was unable to look away. How peaceful and content he seemed in the face of enormous changes to their lives. Her voice was soft with unspoken wonder. "You've really thought this through, haven't you? I mean when you found me that apartment."

He nodded, and there was a long silence while Kate could think of nothing to say.

"You know," he glanced over at her, swallowing hard when he found her watching him. "If the logistics are too difficult, she could… live… with me." He drew in a deep breath before rushing out the last two words.

_"Live with you!" _Kate's jaw dropped open and she gaped at him, wide-eyed.

"You can visit whenever you want," he added hastily.

"You… want _custody?" _She blinked at him, incredulous.

"Only—" His eyebrows plunged into a knot as he watched her reactions closely. "Only if _you _want me to."

She gripped the arms of the glider. If she wanted him to—_Did_ she want him to? She tried to imagine being the distant parent, visiting her child at Castle's loft and suddenly they were a family, sharing the care of their child day after day.

She felt less certain than ever.

"I—No. Thanks, but, I-I think I'll want her to be with me." Her voice faltered as she slid her feet back into her shoes.

"I figured as much." He responded quickly then, looking down at the jumble of baby clothes in his lap, one by one, he tenderly straightened them on the hangers.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she watched him. Her voice was soft, tentative when she finally spoke. "What happened with Meredith?"

He turned to her, visibly startled to hear the name of Alexis' mother from her.

"Meredith." His movements slowed as his gaze turned thoughtful. "Meredith was not cut out for parenthood. _Or_ monogamy." He sighed. "She could hardly _wait _to get back to acting. A year later she ran off with her director." He shook his head. "You saw what she's like. She's there for the party but when the party's over, she's still searching for the next fun time." He shrugged. "She's not really so terrible. Just not the mothering type. More of a—"

"Crazy aunt with a credit card?" Kate supplied, smiling a little in memory of her brief meeting with Alexis' mother.

"Exactly." He leaned closer, whispering, "To tell the truth, I think I was attracted by how much she reminded me of my mother. Then I married her and remembered the things I _don't_ love about my mother."

Kate grinned and rose, wandering to a nursery mock-up decorated with green and purple butterflies. She ran a hand over the matching wall appliqués. "And Gina? Where did things go wrong with her?"

"In getting married."

She blinked at him in surprise.

"It might have been a mistake getting involved." He sighed and explained. "She was my editor first. We spent a lot of time together working on the first couple Derrick Storm novels. One thing led to another…" A hand rested on the crib rail as he stared at the comforter, lost in thought. Then he gave her a quick glance, as though checking for censure before continuing. "We'd been married about a year when her dad retired and she became the publisher of Black Pawn. That's when things really headed south."

Kate nodded, murmuring, "There's a separation of church and state for a reason."

He looked relieved. "Exactly. Affairs of business and the heart don't mix well."

"And Kyra, was she the one? The _love_ of your life?" Her voice trailed off at the intensity of the look he gave her.

He dropped his gaze and was silent a long moment. When he spoke, his words were quiet, coming slowly and chosen with care. "For a long time, I thought so." He cleared his throat. His glance was a naked, vulnerable look that made her belly quiver. "Then I discovered life had something better in store." He turned quickly away to inspect a changing table.

Kate's cheeks felt hot and her heart pounded in her ears. _Oh God! Is he—he's telling me he's-Oh God! _His back was to her as she sucked in several deep breaths and brushed her hair off her suddenly warm face.

Finally. She knew.

In the awkward silence that followed, she found herself unable to speak, or tear her eyes away from him as her thoughts whirled in a tangle of emotion.

He drifted to another nursery set, this one decorated with fuzzy zebras and lavender elephants. His face was flushed as he ran his hand over the crib sized comforter.

Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips. _Richard Castle is in love with me, head over heels in love._ She turned her back to him, unable to trust her face not to reveal more than she was ready to admit.

"Alexis had a dresser like that," he commented. There was an unusual catch to his voice, but Kate barely noticed it.

"Oh," she responded inanely, but latched onto the comment, grateful for a safe topic. "It looks sort of lopsided, stacked up like that."

"It's designed to double as a changing table."

"Oh," she said again, sneaking a peek at him. "I suppose that would be ideal in a small apartment."

His face was composed, though still flushed, as he inspected a mobile, turning the little figures about for a closer look. His eyes moved toward her then flicked away when he caught her looking.

She let out a quiet sigh. _Richard Castle,_ she thought to herself. _Rick._ A smile teased the corner of her mouth. She finally admitted what a secret part of her had always known.

_The one._

She didn't fight it, but let the knowledge take her. The tension seeped from her shoulders and softness crept into her eyes. Her heart pounded in her chest, seeming to swell with warmth and caring. She made no attempt to hide the smile growing over her face.

"You know what the mark of a great baby mobile is?" He didn't look up, and there was a catch in his voice. He tapped an arm of the mobile, making it spin.

"No."

"Point of view. Most of them look adorable over the crib but from the baby's perspective?" he flipped a zebra over, showing its plain bottom. "Boring."

"I hadn't thought about that." Kate cocked her head to one side, considering the baby mobile anew. "You're right." She pretended not to notice the way he stared at her, but when she returned his gaze, he looked away again. A smile crept back over her face as she considered him.

They could definitely find their way together.

He glanced up, something in the distance catching his eye. A smile burgeoned over his features as he pulled her toward the far side of the store. "We haven't seen the strollers yet! Every Mini-Manhattanite needs a mobile command center."

Her mouth dragged at the sides. "Uh, Castle? This trip was never _about_ the baby. _You _were supposed to be helping _me _pick out a sofa."

"Yes, but we're here now-"

"Castle," she interrupted. "We have at least six months before the baby is born. However, I do have a somewhat pressing need to _sit_ in my apartment. Preferably on something with cushions and an armrest."

He held up one finger as though considering. "Fine. Let's just pay for these…" He hefted the handful of hangers and baby clothes.

Kate nodded. "Lead the way."

They'd nearly made it to the front when he spotted a display of books. He reached for a thick tome titled, Dad's Pregnant Too. Smiling, he added it to his armload. "Do you want anything else?"

"Yes, a sofa."

He seemed not to have heard her, a new title already in his hand. "Like What to Expect Pregnancy Journal and Organizer, to keep track of expenses and doctor appointments?"

"It's under control," she assured him, looking the checkout counters over for the shortest line.

Castle dropped the book back onto the shelf and together they got in line. "When is your first prenatal visit?"

"You mean with the doctor?"

"Yeah."

"Tomorrow morning."

He gaped at her. "You kept _that_ one quiet."

"I wasn't keeping anything quiet, Castle. You didn't _ask_, till now, so you didn't _know_, till now."

He was silent as he laid the clothes on the counter, but the furrows on his forehead hinted at his feelings about this revelation.

They left the store moments later with a purple shopping bag in his hand. He shot her a calculating look, but his tone was deceptively offhand. "So what happens at the first doctor visit?"

"Nothing too exciting. They confirm the due date, talk about nutrition, supplements, a physical exam, ultrasound..." She shrugged, apparently unconcerned, even as she watched for his reaction.

_"Ultrasound?"_ His eyes widened again and he shot her a betrayed look.

"Ultrasound," she repeated innocently.

"To find out if it's a boy or a girl?" he fished.

"Oh, it's too early for that. This ultrasound is just to confirm gestational age, due date," she shrugged again, "stuff like that."

"Oh." He imitated one of those wobbly headed dolls on Ryan's desk. "Sounds, um, routine."

"It should be." A smile toyed with her lips. "I'll bring you a sonogram." His face lit up oddly and she turned quickly away, covering her mouth. "I'm starting to get hungry. Do you want to grab something?"

Castle was still watching her as though dumbfounded.

"There's a hot dog vendor on the corner, or do you-"

"Take me with you."

"Sure, it'll be my treat. They might have cheeseburgers…"

"No." His hand on her arm stopped her and they paused in the middle of Times Square. Again. "Tomorrow. Take me to your doctor's appointment. I want to be part of the discussion, see the ultrasound, meet the doctor—_take me with you,"_ he commanded.

The words were automatic, thoughtless even. "That's absurd, Castle. You're not even my boyfriend."

The crease between his brows deepened. "Maybe so," he said slowly with effort, "but, I _am_ the father of your baby. Take me with you."

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, regretting the callous remark. But she let him stew anyway, one brow raised in speculation.

"You won't even know I'm there," he promised.

"Where've I heard that before?" But there was teasing behind the sarcasm.

His voice lowered persuasively, "This is, the first _ultrasound_. The first meeting with our _unborn baby_. It's like meeting the parents before the wedding. _I can't miss this!_ I _have _to come!"

"Castle," she tried to look well and truly irritated as she looked up at him. "It's a kidney bean with a heartbeat. There's nothing to _see_."

"Our baby's _first_ ultrasound," he repeated emphatically. "I can't _miss_ _this_. When Alexis was in utero I went to _every_ appointment."

She pursed her lips as she stared at him. "All right, you can come. But just for the ultrasound. You'll be in the waiting room for the rest."

A slow grin spread across his face and he looked as though he wanted to hug her.

She turned away, smiling. "_Now_, hot dog?"

_"Yes!"_ He beamed as she led the way to a street vendor. Then in a wheedling tone he added, "So, when you said _physical exam_, you meant…"

Kate didn't miss a beat. "You'll be in the waiting room."

"You won't even know I'm there…"

"That's because you'll be in the waiting room."

"Gotcha."

* * *

_Next chapter? Daddy Beckett meets Daddy Castle!_

___I love hearing about your favorite parts. Did you laugh or cry?_

_**Please remember to follow me on Twitter (see my profile for details), and leave me a review!** _


	24. Unexpected

_**October 8, 2011**_

_I know, you're in shock. It's been what? A mere five days since the last update and now another one? Hopefully, you'll manage this chapter without a coronary and be prepared for Chapter 25, which will appear in one to two weeks._

_Thank you to those who reviewed chapter 24, and to those following me on Twitter. FYI, you do **not** need a Twitter account to see my tweets __(_and read about the story progress). See my profile for details.

_**Important Note:**__ This story went alternate universe well before the concept of Beckett's motorcycle (Or Chet dying) was revealed on Castle. _

* * *

_**Unexpected**_

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**_

_**Day 43:**__ 223 days to go. _

The gonads are forming and, over the next week or so, will become either testes or ovaries, depending on the sex of the baby.

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p32_

* * *

Kate shut the shower off and sluiced the excess water out of her hair, snugging a towel around her head while reaching for a second.

A bathtub had been a nonnegotiable in her apartment search. There is nothing like relaxing in hot sudsy water for easing the tension out of her tight muscles at the end of the day, she reflected.

Of course, a shower was the only way to _start_ the day, but a soak, preferably with a mystery novel in hand, was the ideal closer. Not that she'd done much reading last night. Her thoughts had frequently been distracted by the memory of a teasing pair of blue eyes.

She found herself smiling, again, as she thought over their conversation the night before. Mr. Mom. Who'd have thought? Her mind wandered as her hands methodically went through her morning routine. She imagined Castle, diaper bag over one shoulder, baby on his arm as they visited her at the precinct—God! The man had never been sexier to her.

Which led her thoughts to his dimpled smile, the curve of his jaw, that sexy crooked smile that she loved… Everything they'd ever been to each other was suddenly no longer enough. She wanted more. _He _wanted more. It was beginning, _At last._

What was it she'd said to him last night? _You're not even my boyfriend_. She made a face, regretting the tart words that tripped too easily off her tongue. Time to rectify that. They'd been seeing a lot more of each other lately. Shopping last night, doctor's appointment today, breakfast a couple of weeks ago… She could almost call it pre-dating. _Hell _she could hardly wait to see him, _now!_

Frowning, she calculated the hours till they met at the obstetrician's office, and with traffic… Too long. But, if she picked him up on her Harley—" She smiled, contemplating his reaction to seeing her with a motorcycle between her thighs. _Mmm… Rick seated behind her, hands on her waist…_

_Why not?_

She reached for her phone and a moment later it was ringing in her ear.

"Castle," he answered.

* * *

"Oh _my_ God!" Rick declared, standing stock still, utterly flabbergasted at the sight of Kate Beckett straddling a motorcyle. He'd seen her jackets before. The dark red leather was particularly hot with denim. But those long, shapely legs encased in supple, black leather, and astride a powerful, and not to mention dangerous, machine?

"Close your mouth, Castle." Her tone was dry, but one side of her mouth curved into a smile at his reaction.

It closed with a snap and he circled her and the bike, ostensibly to look it over. But when her back was turned, it was to memorize the way the leather hugged her ass that he sealed into his memory. "I thought you were driving your shorty five!"

"I'm off duty," she reminded him. "The car stays at the precinct."

"In _theory_," he amended, grinning.

She returned the smile. "In theory." She tossed him a silver helmet. Bemused, he pulled it on, but was all thumbs with the straps. A muttered curse brought a low chuckle and she pushed his hands aside.

"Let me." The scent of cherries teased him as she efficiently adjusted the chin strap to fit him.

Too efficiently. A moment later she was pulling her own helmet back over her loose hair. "You coming?"

He climbed on, set his feet on the footpegs she pointed out. He hesitated before sliding his hands beneath the hem of her jacket, to clasp her waist as the engine rumbled to life.

He'd never guessed this biker incarnation of his muse existed, _But,_ he promised himself, _this is _so _going in the next Nikki Heat book. _

"Hang on tight," she called over her shoulder as she peeled away from the curb, leaving his stomach behind, and coming perilously close to unseating him. He recovered, his hands gripping her waist with new strength. She took a corner fast, leaning to one side, his hands squeezing convulsively. She picked up speed.

He didn't try to speak to her on the drive over, but his arms around her middle tightened with every curve she leaned into. If she noticed, she gave no sign, but the closeness, the vibrations from the machine beneath them, the wind rushing past; all of it set his heart pounding in his chest.

He felt a pang of disappointment as she turned into a gloomy parking garage and cut the engine. Feet planted on either side, the Harley balanced on its kickstand, Kate reached up and pulled the shiny black helmet off, tucking it under one arm as she shook out her chestnut tresses.

His hands fell away, brushing her hips and, _God, that ass, so close and in tight leather… _"That is so hot…" he murmured without thinking, his hands twitching slightly.

She cast an amused glance over her shoulder. "Are we going to sit here all day or are we going in?"

"Uh, right." He slung his leg over the bike and stepped back, watching her do the same, barely reminding himself to close his mouth before she glanced up at him and then led the way toward the elevators, helmet in hand. "Let's go."

He stared after her for a second while he caught his breath then followed.

Moments later, his hand on her sleeve pulled her back as she reached for a glass door, printed with the credentials of the resident doctors. "Hang on a minute."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her hand on the handle.

"We don't want to wait with the public." He inclined his head toward the rows of women, visible through the floor to ceiling Plexiglas windows.

Her eyes widened. "We don't?"

"Unless you want to become a candidate for the Baby Bump Brigade on page six?"

"We don't," she agreed, stepping away from the door. "Do you have a better suggestion?"

A quick glance told him they were free of eavesdroppers. He took a deep breath, and continued in a voice pitched for her ears alone. "Check in as usual. I'll wait out here. Ask to speak to the office manager. Explain that your companion wishes to remain _anonymous_ and is there a _private _location where we can wait? Then—"

"—Call you." She nodded and disappeared into the crowded waiting room.

Castle smiled as he watched her go. Something was different about her today. He shrugged and glanced over the railing at the foyer below. Plain clothes and medical scrubs blended in a sea of humanity, milling around foyer below. A green and white awning, and a scattering of tables and chairs caught his eye, and he smiled.

"Perfect!"

* * *

"What took so long?" Castle growled as Kate pushed the heavy employee entrance door open. "I thought security was going to pat me down for loitering."

"Co-pays, paperwork… I'm glad we came early." The corner of Kate's mouth quirked and she raised an eloquent brow as he entered, coffees in hand, dark sunglasses in place. He nodded to where the nurse in Bugs Bunny scrubs waited, files clasped in his arms.

He glanced up at Rick curiously then beckoned for them to follow him down the hall and into a bookshelf lined office.

"My name is Andrew. I'm Dr. Sosa's assistant. I'll let her know you're waiting in her office." He glanced from one to the other.

"Thank you very much." Kate smiled at Andrew who let the door fall closed after one last curious look at Rick, who seemed oblivious.

Alone at last, he pulled off his sunglasses and handed Kate her coffee. "Cheers," he toasted playfully, bumping cups with her.

"Cheers," she echoed, enjoying the fact that they were truly alone. She drank, savoring the smooth taste. "Esposito called twenty minutes ago." "Body dropped, 44th and Lex. We'll have to head straight over after the appointment."

"Will we have time for lunch?"

She gave him that look.

"Right, crime scene." He turned his attention back to a row of plastic figures depicting female organs in various stages of pregnancy. "What else did he say about it?"

She shook her head. "I didn't have time for details."

She watched him peruse the bookshelf, a smile toying with her mouth. Her eyes followed him as he picked up the family portrait on the broad desk.

"Which one's the doc?"

"The lady in the back." The tiny smile grew as she watched him explore his surroundings. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, almost tender. "You surprised me."

"How's that?"

"Your enthusiasm about starting over as a dad, Mr. Mom…" He met her gaze but hers skittered away after a moment. "I hadn't expected that from you."

"Well, Kate," He waited for her to find his eyes again. "As it happens, I always liked the idea of another baby some day." One corner of his mouth curved upwards, and his voice was a caress. "It just took me a while to get the _mother_ right." His eyes, so often teasing or brimming with good humor were soft and utterly without guile.

A long moment passed as they stared at each other. Finally, she swallowed and licked her lips.

"Rick, I—" The mood was broken by the trill of her phone. Kate dug it out and checked the display. "It's… it's my Dad." She shrugged apologetically.

"Take it."

"Thanks," she whispered as she set the phone to her ear. Rick sat beside her, hands folded in his lap.

"Dad, hi." Then in a completely different tone, "Oh! Yeah, sorry. I forgot… yeah." Another pause and she continued, her voice low and the words fumbling over each other into an awkward pile. "We—I'm waiting in Dr. Sosa's office—her actual _office_." She bit her lip. "Why don't you ask the manager to—Yeah." Rick could almost make out her father's side of it, he was sitting so close to her. I'll see you in a minute." She closed her phone and leaned her head against the wall, eyes closed and her brow furrowed.

He waited for her to speak but lost patience. "Kate?"

She opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling. "That was my dad." She began unnecessarily. "I forgot he wanted to come." She shook her head in disbelief as she dropped the phone into her jacket pocket, avoiding Rick's gaze.

"Your _Dad,_" Castle straightened in the chair beside her. "He's _here?" _His eyes widened and his voice was unexpectedly high.

She met his gaze curiously. "That's not a problem is it?"

His mouth dropped open as though he were about to speak but he shut it again. Finally, his voice clipped, "No, no problem at all." He slunk back in his seat, biting one knuckle.

Kate turned to him, her gaze softening as she noted his agitation. "Rick, what's wrong?"

But whatever she might have said was again interrupted as a graying man appeared around the edge of the opening door.

"Katie."

"Dad…" She smiled in spite of the tension and rose to hug him. "Dad, this is Rick Castle." She gestured to Rick, who was on his feet, extending his hand.

"Rick Castle," Jim's eyes widened in recognition but he made no move to shake hands. Instead he stared at Rick for what seemed like an eternity. "I suppose it's a bit late to be asking your _intentions._"

If humor lingered in Jim's eyes, Rick missed it.

"_Dad,"_ Kate hissed as Rick flinched, his hand lowering as he floundered for a response.

"My intentions," Rick gulped. "You mean, because she's pregnant, and you think _I_… had something to do… with… it…"

Kate slowly turned to face him. Jim arched a brow, his eyes widening.

"Which, of course, I _did_."

Their heads were cocked at identical angles with the same unblinking regard. Jim shifted his weight.

Castle swallowed hard, "But the salient point here is, _my_ _intentions_. Which I'm not stating well."

Jim Beckett waited in silence, rubbing his chin as he glanced at Kate.

Rick drew in a deep breath. "When she's ready to hear my intentions, Mr. Beckett, you'll be the _next_ to know."

A wry grin appeared on the older man's face. "Jim Beckett." He offered Rick his hand and the two men shook as Kate glowered at her father.

Rick's breath came out in a gush, his words running together. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Beckett."

"You too, Rick. But you can call me Jim." He clapped Rick on the shoulder, and smiled at his daughter. "Appropriately respectful," he commented, smiling. "Very commendable."

Kate rolled her eyes.

"Thank you," was Rick's weak response.

Jim looked from one to the other, "Do you two want to grab some lunch after—" but he was interrupted by a tiny Asian woman wearing turquoise scrubs.

"Oh, Hello." She greeted them with a warm smile. "We have family gathewing, I see,"

Kate sighed.

"I am Dr. Sosa." She offered Jim her hand. "You awe?"

"Jim Beckett, Kate's father."

"Wondaful. And you?"

"Rick Castle."

Her almond shaped eyes widened briefly. "The novelist?" She smiled warmly, "And you are also Kate's…" She referred to the chart in hand, "Kate's partner? Baby's father?"

"Uh… yes?"

Kate smirked at his uneasy response.

"Wonderful! I am so glad to see new mom with so much support. Congratulations!" Jim smiled as she shook hands all around then sat behind the enormous desk, making her look smaller than ever.

"Let's cover few things—We are short chair aren't we?"

"I'll stand," Rick volunteered hastily, stepping aside.

"Very well," Dr. Sosa began. "Kate, this is longest and most comprehensive prenatal visit. We'll take complete medical history, run many tests, blood, urine, ultrasound... and full exam. Will your guests joining—"

"_No."_ Kate frowned then she sighed, her face softening. "They're just here for the ultrasound."

"I see." Dr. Sosa referred to the file open on her desk. "You already confirmed pregnancy with blood test. We draw blood for other tests as well. Did you bring list of questions and concerns? Good.

"Andrew should be ready for ultrasound. We'll get that out of way, and gentlemen can return here during exam and medical history." She moved briskly to the door, which Rick opened for her. She smiled up at him, "I love your books," and bustled down the hall.

Rick held the door while Jim and Kate followed.

"Come in, Come in." Dr. Sosa beckoned them into a tiny exam room in which the stirruped exam table and ultrasound equipment took up most of the space. "Does everyone fit? Kate, I need you on exam table. Let's get pants unfastened."

Paper crinkled as Kate sat between the stirrups, frowning. She seemed reluctant to lie down or peel back her clothing, not that Rick could blame her.

"Here we go," Dr. Sosa sang as she pulled out a retractable footrest and folded the stirrups away, much to Kate's obvious relief. "Alrighty, let's get pants unfastened." Her voice rose on the last word, as though she asked it as a question.

Jim seemed to be admiring the kitten & yarn border along the ceiling, and Rick was tempted to follow his example, but his eyes were drawn inexorably to Kate. Her belly, concave weeks ago, now showed a faint roundness as she pushed the supple leather lower.

A shiver ran through him at this first visible sign of their developing child. He wished they were alone, that he could caress the smooth skin where their baby was growing, hold her hand…

Dr. Sosa moved into position on the other side of the table, tucking paper napkins around the edge of the leather, then squeezed goo onto Kate's belly. "Here we go… Andrew?"

"Ready to go, Doctor." The assistant handed her what resembled an electric razor with a long fat cord back to the computer on the cart.

Every eye turned to the screen showing flashing images in shades of black and gray. At last it came into a semblance of focus. At least the image quit flashing and became still.

For a long moment there was silence.

"What am I looking at?" Kate frowned at the screen.

Andrew glanced at Dr. Sosa and then gestured to a dark shape. "This is the umbilical cord and placenta. He pointed at a curved shape of mottled black and gray. "This is the fetus." His voice trailed off.

Rick's throat felt tight and his eyes burned, but he could not look away. He was suddenly very glad to be squeezed into the corner where no one would notice him.

Overwhelmed, he stared unblinking at the still screen, at the child he and Kate made together. _There she is. Our daughter—or son._ Images of a dark haired little girl with dimples and blue eyes danced through his thoughts. But, he could not tear his eyes away from the monitor, hardly aware of the technician's measurements and mouse clicks, so taken was he by the little bean on the screen.

He wanted to speak to Kate, to take her hand in his, and somehow share with her what this moment meant to him. But it was Jim hovering beside the exam table, who broke the silence.

"Shouldn't we hear a heartbeat?" His voice was low, anxious.

Every eye turned to Dr. Sosa, whose face was still for the first time since Rick had met her.

"I'm very sorry." She said, softly laying aside the cord and sensor. "This is not viable pregnancy." She reached for paper towels to wipe the goo off Kate's belly.

The words swam in Rick's ears as invisible bands tightened around his chest. Kate could only stare at Dr. Sosa, her face still. She seemed unaware of Jim taking her hand, laying the other on her shoulder.

Rick could not seem to breathe through the constriction in his chest. "What do you mean?" he choked out at last.

Kate had not moved. Jim smoothed back her hair.

"There is no heartbeat, Mr. Castle." She turned to Kate, her voice kind. "Have you noticed bleeding or cramping?"

"No." Kate's voice was steady but her face was pale and her eyes wide. She seemed other worldly calm as she gently brushed her father aside and sat up, fastening her pants.

Dr. Sosa nodded. "This is _missed miscarriage._ The fetus died but is not expelled. The miscarriage may begin in days or weeks, or we can help along."

A fog descended over Rick. Voices of others floated in and out of his thoughts without meaning except for words like _chromosomal abnormalities_ and_ dilation and curettage. H_e could not, _would_ not follow the train of conversation, detailing the termination of the pregnancy.

The room was crowded, yet he was alone, adrift.

Andrew had unplugged the cart and gathered the cords while Dr. Sosa spoke. He eased the door open, glancing at Rick and turning quickly away from what he saw.

His daughter, little _Johanna_, all the memories he'd never have of her overwhelmed Rick. Her birth, her first steps, feeding her whipped cream from the can, dancing in the rain, sleeping in his lap while he wrote… Waves of grief swept over him, leaving him reeling. There would be no riding bikes in Central Park, no feeling her move through Kate's belly...

He was drowning. He couldn't face this.

He turned to Kate, but her attention was focused on Dr. Sosa. His dreams of wooing her over late night diaper changes and cooing together over toothless grins suffocated him… _Kate, _he wanted to pull her into his arms, bury his face in her hair, hold onto life with her, but… Jim stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder again, offering her what support he could.

There was no opening for Rick. Strong and independent, she didn't seem to need him. _You're not even my boyfriend,_ she'd reminded him last night. All this time and… _nothing_. Would they _ever_—The thought broke him as their lifeless baby had not.

It was too much. Without a word to anyone, Rick pulled the door open and left.

* * *

_Happier stuff to come, I promise!_


	25. Castle Under Seige

_**October 28, 2011**_

_I've finally given chapter 25 the final polished I skipped when it was first posted, not that you will notice the changes. They're pretty subtle. Thanks to Peter for his comments, which I finally got to today, as well as my writer's circle. _

* * *

_**October 26, 2011**_

Chapter 26 requires a major overhaul. Sorry guys, no update soon. But the epilogue... you'll love it!

* * *

_**October 13, 2011**_

I'd _planned_ on sharing an author's note detailing why I felt it was necessary to go this route. But, I'm going to finish the story first. I'll let you know on twitter if I decide to post one.

* * *

_**October 8, 2011**_

_I'd planned on another week of polishing this chapter. I wanted to reconsider how Kate dealt with certain things, and whether or not it occurred to Castle that maybe he shouldn't have left the doctor's appointment so abruptly. But the reviews convinced me we need to move past this point of the story… _now_. I will polish this and replace it at a later date. It's polished enough for now._

* * *

**_Castle Under Siege_**

**_CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE_**

**_Day 43 Continued_**

The rasp of the door falling closed pulled Kate's attention from Dr. Sosa. She looked around and saw Jim hovering at her elbow and the empty corner by the door where Castle had waited in silence. Now he was gone.

"Where's Rick?" Her eyes were wide as she stared around the tiny room, as though looking for something important.

Dr. Sosa, broke off in the middle of her description of Kate's options and blinked at her. Jim stared blankly back.

"Excuse me." She stood, reaching for her leather jacket.

"Katie—"

But Kate shrugged off his hand. "I need to find Rick."

Dr. Sosa nodded her understanding, her face very serious as she emphasized, "We need to discuss your options further. I will be in touch."

Kate accepted the pamphlets she offered her. "Thank you." She turned and left the exam room, not bothering to see if her father followed her.

She stopped abruptly in the doorway of Dr. Sosa's office. The two motorcycle helmets sat on the floor where they'd left them, but Rick was not there.

She spun on her heel, brushing past her dad as she left the medical suite, stopping in the foyer where just an hour ago, Rick had waited for her call.

She reached for her cell, finding him on speed dial. It rang in her ear. She waited.

Voicemail.

She snapped the phone shut, biting her lip. Rick _always_ took her calls. She hit redial, barely aware of her dad waiting in silence, the two helmets dangling from his hands. Voicemail a second time. She closed her eyes, her arms hanging uselessly at her side.

"Katie," Jim's voice was gentle.

She kept her eyes closed. "He's not picking up," she whispered, her lip aching as her teeth sank in too deeply.

"Katie, I'm _sorry_."

Her eyes snapped open. "For what? Because Rick is in the wind or because our baby—" She blinked rapidly, tasting something salty. She dabbed at her mouth. Her lip was bleeding.

"Katie, your mother and I went through three miscarriages. I know—"

_"No, you don't!" _she snapped. "You and mom had each other, and Rick and I—" she couldn't finish.

"Rick and I can't even get it together to—"

She turned away, her hands resting on the brushed steel railing, staring blindly at the coffee kiosk below. Rick had brought her coffee while he waited, she remembered. He always took care of her caffeine fix. Except for last night. She shook her head bitterly, remembering his hurt and the awkwardness, when she'd gotten her own. She shoved the thought aside.

The baby… _their _baby was dead. She gasped, covering her mouth tightly to keep from losing control, almost sobbing… as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Dad," she choked out, her voice sounding high and tight. "I can't _do_ anything for my baby. She's dead. I'm carrying around a dead baby inside me." There was a long silence, broken only by her struggle to keep her composure.

Jim drew closer, squeezing her shoulder gently.

She grabbed his hand with her own, closing her eyes tightly. "But Castle, _Rick_ is—" She opened her eyes again, seeming to draw strength from her father's touch. She faced him.

"He needs me. And I _can _do something for him. I need—" she broke off, then continued, her voice softer. "Dad, I need him. I need Rick. And, I need to be alone right now."

There was a soft sound as he set the helmets down, then he reached out and hugged her. "Katie, call me if there's any way I can help, even if it's just listening." His voice was rough with unspoken emotion. She met his eyes then. Hers were wet with tears, his deep with an old sorrow. He kissed her cheek and left.

Alone at last, she took several deep breaths, willing calmness. Time. Rick needed time, and… and she'd go to the crime scene, and throw herself into her work. She'd get a hold of him this evening. They'd talk and… they'd talk. Later.

* * *

Rick caressed the tiny cheek, reveling in the softness of the delicate skin and the slight weight in his arms. She turned her head, mouth open as she rooted reflexively for… something he didn't have. He substituted his pinky, feeling her will to live in the strength of her suckling, her blue eyes, staring into his.

He was in love with this creature in his arms, his heart swelling with warm and protective feelings. Nothing would ever come between them.

"Rick?"

Kate was ready for her, hair tumbling around her shoulders, one bared of the hospital gown she wore as she reached for their daughter.

He smiled and turned back to the infant. "Lunchtime, Kiddo," he whispered to her, disengaging his pinky from Johanna's mouth, who whimpered in protest. "Believe me, Mom's got something better." He snugged the cotton receiving blanket tighter before placing the precious bundle in Kate's arms, the tiny head at her bare shoulder.

"Johanna…" she whispered to their daughter, her voice soft and melodic, "C'mere…" One long finger caressed a puffy red cheek and Johanna again turned her head, rooting for something suckable, finding only air.

_Wrong cheek_, Rick thought to himself, settling into the bedside chair, as he watched to see how Kate would manage this first feeding.

Kate's brow furrowed and she corrected her mistake, brushing her daughter's other cheek and Johanna turned unerringly to her mother's bare breast.

And why should Kate cover herself? The room was empty but for her and Rick, and they were lovers…

* * *

They weren't.

Rick gasped for breath, struggling to breathe through the constriction and burning pain centered in his chest.

_Leave_. He had to leave, he had to get out.

He pulled the exam room door open as quietly as he could, letting it fall shut behind him with a grating sound. He did not wait for it to latch, but rushed down the hallway toward the exit where just an hour before, Kate held the door, enabling his clandestine entrance.

Kate. Her face, so strong and calm as she listened to Dr. Sosa's explanations, betraying none of the devastating heartbreak Rick struggled to contain. Her dad was beside her, his hand squeezing her shoulder. She didn't need Rick.

But, _God he needed her._

He couldn't stop for the elevator, finding the stairs almost by accident. He hurtled down them, desperate to get to the streets where he'd be a nameless face in the droves of pedestrians, each with their eyes averted to avoid accidental connections, or to avoid witnessing humanity in a stranger's eyes.

A stranger on the street, no one would care to look into his face and witness his pain. He fumbled with his sunglasses, shoving them on, hurrying through the grand foyer, pushing past medical staff and patients alike, heedless of protests.

He fled through the throngs of people on the street, not seeing where he was going, not caring. When a crowd gathered at an intersection, waiting for a light, he turned, or crossed the other way if the light was green, moving farther and farther away from his heartbreak, from the tiny room where Kate considered the fate of their unborn child.

He could not face it. He could not face losing her—_them._

It'd been a dream, a fantasy, raising their daughter together; that she would ever want to do that with _him. _In his mind's eye, he saw their beautiful little girl with Kate's long dark hair and the Rodgers' dimples that enchanted him with every appearance—his chest heaved and he struggled for control.

_Walk, just walk, _he told himself.

So he did. When at last he looked around, the masses had dwindled to a rougher sort and he did not recognize his surroundings. _Good,_ he thought morosely. Maybe he'd be jumped and—and it'd be over. Beckett would be called to the scene of his mangled body…

Still he walked, his thoughts wandering down familiar paths, imagining Kate, her body swelling with their child, as he pressed his palm to her belly, feeling the baby move within her. He saw her later, laboring in a hospital bed, then after, cradling their newborn. A tiny infant staring up at him with her mother's eyes…

He imagined coming home to find Kate lying in their bed, playing with their daughter. She'd look up, greeting him with a soft smile, the one she reserved just for him. The smile he hadn't yet seen but dreamed about.

The look in Kate's eyes when he and little Johanna visited her at the precinct in the middle of her workday.

He swallowed hard. Fantasies, just fantasies that would never come true. His heart ached as he remembered the cool distance she treated him with after their one night together, before he'd begged her to take a pregnancy test. And how she seemed to thaw as the weeks wore on. He closed his eyes, standing in the middle of the sidewalk. He'd been so careful not to blow it with her this time. It seemed like he was finally earning her trust. Now what would happen between them? More of the same? He couldn't, he _couldn't_ go back to pretending nothing had happened between them.

Abruptly, Rick was done with the streets, the raw humanity, and brusque uncaring of the people around him. He glanced about for a subway access, wanting the crush of humankind to help wall out his emotions, but an available taxi was too convenient. He got in.

"Tribeca," he muttered to the cabbie.

_Home_—the loft would be empty; Alexis at school with several activities planned for later. Mother—lived with Chet now. She rarely dropped by mid-day.

He stared without seeing Manhattan pass him by, thoughts instead of the purple and white shopping bag he'd unloaded last night, each outfit lovingly hung in his closet. He'd pictured a cherubic two year old practicing awkward pirouettes with a magic wand in hand, wearing the tiny pink tutu.

His vision blurred and he leaned back, squeezing his eyes shut. His brow furrowed against the hopeless dreams, suddenly wanting a drink or maybe to get very, very drunk.

At home, he wandered from room to room, leaving his jacket, abandoned and crumpled on the floor. He fumbled with his phone and his touch lit the smooth surface. Five missed calls. Tentatively, he tapped the _view now_ option. Beckett. Kate called him five times.

He dimly remembered it ringing as he staggered through the crowds. He closed his eyes, remembering they way he'd abandoned her in the exam room. What must she think of him now? Was he ready to face her, to let her see him so—weak? _Unmanned?_

He splashed some scotch into a tumbler, bringing it to his lips. Maybe after a drink he'd be ready to call her back.

* * *

She found him late that night, hunched over a drink at Bubby's bar. His hair was mussed, his face flushed but whether it was from alcohol or strong emotion, she didn't know. It smelled like booze. She slid onto a stool beside him, saying nothing.

"Hey," he finally broke the silence, scarcely looking at her.

"Hey." Her voice was soft.

He sipped from the tumbler in front of him. "How did you find me?"

"Lucky guess. Castle, do you have any idea how many times I tried to call you today?"

"Eleven."

She stared at him, saying nothing.

He stared at his drink, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "I'm—I didn't want you to see me like this."

"Like _what?"_

Possible responses flitted through his thoughts. _Half-drunk. Broken. Weak._ He squinted at the bottles lining the mahogany and mirrored wall behind the bar. He still wouldn't meet her gaze, nor did he answer.

She met his silence with a tall paper cup set in front of him. "I—I thought you could use some coffee."

His eyes widened in surprise, taking in every detail of the offering. At last he turned to her, his mouth open as though he wanted to speak, but it was she who would not meet his gaze now.

"You—you brought me coffee?"

"Obviously," she muttered, still not looking at him.

He pushed his glass away, half drunk and took a sip. His eyes wandered back to her and this time she met his stare.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome." Her eyes lingered on his. "C'mon." She jerked her head toward the door. "I'll walk you home."

He glanced back at his half-empty glass before nodding sluggishly. "Yeah." He lumbered to his feet. "Be right back," and disappeared in the general direction of the restroom.

Kate sighed and watched him go. _God, Rick. What am I going to do with you?_

"Can I get you anything, Detective?" It was Mario, his brown eyes, solemn in concern.

"Just his check."

He nodded and slid a leather billet across the bar. "You takin' Mr. Castle home?"

She reached into her purse. "Yes. I'm walking him home." She tucked a plastic card inside the wallet, but paused before pushing it toward him. "Mario, you've known Castle—_Rick_ a long time?"

Mario nodded.

"Does he… does he do this often?"

"You mean drinking heavily?"

She nodded.

"No." Mario shook his head and gave a deep sigh. "It's been years. Not since his marriage broke up."

Her voice was hushed. "Was it bad?"

"Ah, Ms. Gina, she took him to the cleaners. But Mr. Castle, he give her what she asked for. He—"

Mario cut off as Rick reappeared, walking carefully toward them. He looked better, his hair was wet around the edges as though he'd splashed water on his face. His shirt freshly tucked and his hair a little more orderly, which is to say, more like his usual tousled look. He took his time approaching and when he spoke his diction was also slow and careful.

"How much do I owe you, Mario?"

"I got it, Castle." Kate slid off her stool, handing him his coffee. "Let's go."

"Yeah, thanks," he agreed, smiling down at his cup. He gestured for her to lead and followed her to the door.

He took a deep breath at the bracing chill of the November evening, muttering, "I'm awake." He sipped at the coffee. "Where's yours?"

Kate sighed irritably, "I wasn't in the mood." She had to remind herself not to rush him and slowed her usual brisk gait.

"You took the time to get me a coffee, even when you didn't want one?" he mused.

"It's just coffee, Castle." She shook her head as though baffled. "You'd think I'd dropped an engagement ring in the bottom of the cup."

He swirled it experimentally, listening for a telltale scrape against the bottom.

She smiled, seeing it.

When he spoke, his voice was soft, unguarded. "You've never brought me coffee before."

"I have too."

"When?" There was no challenge in his voice, just the same hesitant sensitivity that Kate was unsure how to deal with.

"I… I don't know. But I'm sure—"

He sipped again but didn't argue. "Thank you."

She turned to look at him in the half light from the street lamps and loved the way the shadows caressed his features. "You're welcome."

Her gaze lingered on him, noting how different he seemed. She turned it over in her mind, trying to put her finger on what it was. It wasn't his _best-selling author_ persona, or the playboy, with her tonight. His defenses were down, and he was just _Rick_, the sweet guy she'd fallen in love with, who seemed vulnerable, for once. She slid her hand around his bicep and gave a little squeeze, not speaking.

He smiled a little to himself and sipped his coffee as leaves crunched underfoot in the relative quiet of nighttime Tribeca.

It was she who broke the silence between them. "My dad helped me move last weekend." A whimsical smile crossed her face. "It was a father/daughter effort. Kind of a poor excuse for quality time, but… whatever works."

"Your _Dad…_" he repeated, incredulously, remembering their conversation ten days before. "Why didn't you come right out and tell me?"

She gave him a sideways smirk. "Oh please! When you were getting so worked up imagining every alternative?" She gave a throaty chuckle.

"I suppose I was an easy mark."

Her lips twitched. "You _suppose?"_

They walked in amiable silence for several minutes before Rick asked, "Why did you pick me up on your Harley this morning?"

"You're awfully nosy tonight."

"I figure, if you're giving out answers, I'd better take advantage while I can."

She smiled and finally admitted, "I wanted to see you." She ducked her head as she wrapped a strand of hair around one finger.

He watched her, fascinated. "But we already had a date—or at least an appointment."

"I didn't want to wait that long. Besides I was certain you'd fall all over yourself at the sight of me in leather pants," she smirked.

His lips twitched for the first time. "Did I disappoint?"

She smiled back, "Not in the slightest." A breeze picked up, scuttling dry leaves over the sidewalk before them. She used her free hand to wrap the edges of her leather jacket around herself, still clinging to his arm with the other.

They'd reached his building, their steps slowed further, delaying the inevitable parting.

Rick swallowed hard and when he spoke there was a catch in his voice. "What are you going to do?" The words trailed off as though he didn't want to finish the thought.

She slowed, watching his profile, then stopped just out of earshot of the canopied entrance where the doorman waited. He faced her. "About… the baby?"

He gave a single jerk of his head which passed for a nod, squinting off into the darkness, one hand thrust deep into his pocket, and stayed there. The other was a tight fist.

She sighed, her hand dropping from his arm as she faced him, grooves forming between her eyebrows. "I don't know Rick." The grooves deepened. "I can't do _anything_ for the _baby._ Either I'll have a D and C or it'll start on its own." She shook her head bitterly. Nothing I can _do_ will change the final outcome." There was a pause while she searched his eyes. Then she continued. "I'm _more_ concerned about what's happening between _us_."

He peered at her in the dimness, lines deepening on his forehead and lips parting. His eyes were riveted on her face.

Her tone lowered further as she stared at the open collar of his shirt. "You made me believe in _us. _Together. Then, at the first sign of trouble you _disappear." _ She looked directly into his eyes. "What am I supposed to think?"

"Kate," he stepped closer, sounding breathless.

Her face flushed even under the dim streetlights._ "I'm hurting too,"_ she murmured brokenly, not meeting his eyes.

"Kate," he breathed as he reached for her.

"No." she raised her hands as though to push him away, and he drew back.

Her voice gentled. "No, not when you're drunk." There was a long moment when they looked at each other in silence. Then, "Sober up. Then… then come see me."

He nodded without speaking and she pushed a crumpled napkin into his hand. "My new address," she muttered, gazing into his face for a long moment as though reluctant to leave. "I'll see you."

She walked away, leaving him standing on the sidewalk outside his building.

"Until tomorrow… _Kate_," he called after her.

She slowed, then stopped, turning with a small smile. "Good night, Rick." Their eyes met for a brief moment. She left, just glimpsing the tender curve of his lips as he watched her go.

* * *

_This is a tough part of the story, and I'm so sorry if it caused you real pain. That was never my intent._

_Blessings to you, and thank you for reading._


	26. Still

**_November 20, 2011_**

_Exciting news, guys. The epilogue is next! It still needs some reworking but I hope to have it up within two weeks. If you're very, very lucky, I may get it up before going to DisneyLand later this week._

_Just when I thought Chapter 26 was finished, my writer's group discovered it still had issues. One of the comments I received was, "In the movie, Amadeus, there's a scene where the King tells Mozart what he thought of his latest symphany, "Too many notes." The point being that chapter 26 had "Too many words." [sigh.] The upside is, I will be posting several deleted scenes in another story I have going titled, As Good As On Paper TEASERS & DELETED SCENES. You may want to put it on story alert to catch the snippets. _

_Again, please follow me on twitter, atbren_williams, for updates on my writing. You do not need to sign in to see my tweets. See my profile for details._

___Happy Birthday to certain people... You know who you are! _

* * *

_I fondly dedicate this chapter to the Richard Castle of my life._

* * *

_**Still...**_

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**_

_**Day 43 Continued**_

Rick pushed the front door of the loft shut behind him, leaning against it. His eyes were closed and every movement sodden with exhaustion and emptiness, and…

He could breathe again. The thick bands that gripped his chest at word of their baby's death had eased somewhat, and he could again draw smooth, easy breaths without effort, without conscious thought keeping his guts from spilling over onto the floor.

Inwardly, he chided himself for melodrama.

Kate.

He pondered the Java Jungle cup. She brought him coffee. She seemed… ready, at last. He stared at the cup, not drinking, but his eyes softened as he considered this token of her affection.

"Dad?" Alexis descended the stairs toward him, concern etched into furrows of her forehead. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Sweetie. I'm okay." The reassuring smile appeared on his lips without great effort and for that, he was grateful.

"I thought you were with Detective Beckett. Then she came by looking for you and—She found you?" Alexis paused on the landing, looking down at him.

He didn't move. "Yeah, she found me."

"Dad, what's going on? She seemed upset and you—" Alexis gestured at him with both hands then descended the rest of the stairs. "Are you _drunk?__"_

"Not quite," he pulled himself upright, pushing away from the door at last.

She gave him that look, the one she reserved for reminding him that she wasn't an idiot. "Dad, _what__'__s__wrong?__"_

He sighed and held his arms out. She considered him for a long moment before she came, wrapping hers around his middle. He cradled her, squeezing his eyes tightly closed. She said nothing, but waited in silence.

At last she tried to pull away. "Dad, what is it?" she asked when he resisted.

Something, silvery slid down his cheek and into her hair. He took a long, ragged breath and let it out, his arms tightening when she tried again to disentangle herself.

"Dad?"

"Shh." One more deep breath and he spoke. "Kate is having a miscarriage." His voice was thick, little more than a whisper.

Alexis did not react for the space of several heartbeats. "I'm sorry, Dad." She murmured into his shoulder. There was a long silence. This time, he let her go when she pulled away, searching his eyes. "Are you okay?"

He managed a smile for her, but it did not reach his eyes. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

She shook her head, "Liar."

His smile faded.

Finally, she offered, "You still have me."

He smoothed her hair the way he did when she was a little girl. "I know, Honey. I still have you. And I'm so glad." He hugged her again, kissing the top of her head.

She drew back a moment later. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed his hand, leading him toward the kitchen. "Time for some sugar therapy. Chocolate, pistachio, or Cherry Garcia?"

He sighed but put up a brave front. "Alcohol, coffee and ice cream. If it comes back up, at least it'll taste good."

* * *

_**Day 44**_

Being Saturday, Kate slept an extra hour. She woke, stretched, and rose, carefully keeping her thoughts neutral. It worked until she spotted the spiral bound pregnancy journal next to her alarm clock. Her forehead furrowed and she shoved the book into a drawer.

She knew what day of her pregnancy it was and there was no point in reading descriptions of a baby's progress that would never be born. She rubbed her hands over her face but if she wiped moisture from her cheeks, she would not acknowledge it.

She'd dreamed about bringing her little baby home. Castle had been right, damn that man for knowing her too well. She'd fallen in love with the idea of bringing home a little Johanna, and weekends in the park, with Castle… She hadn't dared to dream about the three of them as a family, being too uncertain about what to expect from him.

Until recently. Since their shopping trip two nights before; since glimpsing unspoken love in his eyes when he looked at her, his commitment…

She'd parted with him reluctantly that evening, hesitating with her farewell still hanging in the air between them. Her eyes dropped to his lips. Thenthe cabby, rough and uncouth yelled, "Yo, my meter's runnin' here!" And they'd separated.

Morning came with Dr. Sosa's bitter revelation, the hard knot in her belly and the aching hurt she'd swallowed, pushing it aside with tremendous strength and control. Her jaw was still clenched against it, heedless of how she bruised the lip caught between her teeth.

Was this her fault somehow? Had she trained too hard? Were her hours at the precinct too long? She shouldn't have pushed herself when they were chasing down that suspect. She should have been more diligent about protecting her baby.

_Damn!_ Kate swiped determinedly at her cheeks, thrusting aside her emotions that rose again and again, like a swiftly rising tide that never seemed to ebb. She needed to get out into the world. She needed to run and feel the slap of her feet against the unforgiving city streets, pushing herself to the edge, the very edge of her endurance where she could hide from her feelings in movement and refuse to dwell on what she couldn't have. Instead, she'd focus her thoughts on what was possible.

Rick.

Her traitorous thoughts drew her first to when she'd seen him last, devastated, heart-broken, and slumped against the bar at Bubby's. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the burning sensation of tears. It still seemed impossible that the man who regularly chased down hardened killers at her side had abandoned her at the news of their baby's death.

She woke from her reverie to find herself still staring at the closed drawer where she'd hidden her pregnancy journal. With quick, rough movements, she yanked warm-ups and a sweatshirt on and pulled her hair into a tail.

Perhaps, if she threw herself into the tasks of the day, she'd be able to get through her morning without torturing herself with thoughts of her loss, or the man whose presence was still missing from her life at home.

* * *

Kate pushed herself on the run, wishing all the while she could leave the hot pain around her heart behind. But it only served to push her harder. The memory of her dad's quiet sorrow, the agony in Castle's eyes, his shame, swiftly hidden when she found him sloshed. Most of all, the memory of quiet moments with her mom, talking about boys, braiding each other's hair, sharing secrets over coffee. She hadn't realized how much she wanted that again, wanted a daughter to share laughter and confidences with. Not that it'd be easy. Kate knew full well the aggravation she'd caused her own parents, and a man like Castle couldn't hope for two kids as great as Alexis.

But that child, hers and Castle's—the tears threatened to overwhelm her as a little face pushed its way into her thoughts. A face with her father's jaw and her mother's eyes… except for the color. The color would be Castle's blue-gray.

She didn't bother to dash the new tears away as Kate sprinted toward the next street corner.

She knew she'd try again, that there was still time to become a mom. But she rebelled against that line of thought. She wanted _this_ baby, alive and well, _this_ baby, forging her mish-mash of parents, grandparents, and sister into a cohesive family. _This_ baby broke down Kate's comfortable walls and pushed Castle inside. He hadn't wanted to let her go after that earth-shattering night, and their daughter gave him his in, battering down her walls until Kate could no longer imagine her life without him or their child. Castle. She wanted him. She was finally ready, and now this.

How could one short life change hers so completely?

She neared Prospect Park again, and unready to face her empty apartment, turned in. The mostly bare trees, and fading grass suited her mood perfectly, and she slowed to a walk. Still blowing hard, she paused to stretch.

Voices drew her attention, and she looked up to see a young couple pushing a stroller toward her. A baby's babbling laughter bubbled into the still air as Mom and Dad chattered away, two coffees tucked into the built in drink-carrier of the stroller.

What did Castle call it? A mobile command center?

She could almost picture the three of them, coffee in hand, enjoying playful banter that came so easily to them, while they enjoyed the park with their daughter.

The baby shrieked with laughter, clapping her hands together as Kate watched her unwillingly. Her cheeks were round and soft, with wispy blond curls and eyes the exact shade of blue-gray—

Her stomach in knots, she broke into a run again, fleeing the happy family enjoying their Saturday morning in the park. She'd give anything to trade places with them.

* * *

Kate slit the shiny packing tape open on a new box with her utility knife. It was one of those boxes Dad had brought, shrugging sheepishly and explaining, "I'll never use this stuff again, Katie. If you want it…" She'd discovered Great Grandma Rosa's antique lace tablecloth, the one Mom only used at Christmas Dinner. And the mauve sheets she and Mom picked out together when she'd finally been upgraded from a childish twin bed to a double, complete with matching furniture. Her own bed now was a queen, but she treasured the warmth of the memory.

She'd just laid the sheets in a drawer, tucking them beneath her own pale green ones when a buzz broke the stillness. She paused to turn her I-home stereo down as she meandered around a pile of empty boxes to where the intercom waited, her heart pounding in her ears.

"Yes?"

"Kate?"

Her lips curved upwards on hearing Castle's voice.

"Can I come up?" He sounded tense.

"Yeah, sure." She buzzed him in, smiling. The smile slipped away as she surveyed her new apartment. What a mess. She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. At least she'd showered. Her hair was okay but she'd skipped makeup this morning. Too late now. She crouched beside a mirror, leaning against the wall, fluffing her hair in the back where it tended to droop. She'd just finished smoothing lip gloss on when the doorbell rang.

"Hey," she greeted him, opening the door.

"Hey."

She couldn't keep from smiling as she stepped back to allow him entrance.

He didn't move, but shifted awkwardly, looking uncomfortable. "I—" he took a deep breath. "I brought you flowers."

Her smile widened perceptibly. "Thank you, that was—"

His eyes were riveted on her face as he drew in a deep breath and produced a bouquet of white rose buds from behind him.

White rosebuds, more appropriate for a celebration of birth. She was unable to hide a flinch at the sight. "That's very sweet," she finally managed, reaching for the bouquet.

He would not relinquish them. "I'm sorry, Kate, I should have gotten something different—"

"No. No, I love them. White roses are my favorite." She lied, anything to ease the tension on his face. He finally let her take them. He followed her into the great room, watching her search the cupboards for a vase large enough. She drew out a glass pitcher and, moments later, set the roses in the middle of her kitchen island.

Turning back to him, she whispered, "Thank you."

He seemed unable even to force a smile, but nodded in acknowledgement, barely meeting her eyes. His face, normally so animated and expressive, seemed unnaturally solemn.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her finally.

She shrugged sliding onto a kitchen stool. "The same; nothing's changed."

His eyebrows knit as he nodded, straddling her stool's twin. The ticking clock and the hum of her refrigerator seemed abnormally loud over the city sounds filtering in from outside.

"Why did you leave?" she asked, her voice and face gentle yet hesitant.

His eyes wandered over her face before he spoke. "I couldn't… cope with what was happening."

"You couldn't _cope?__"_ There was a long silence while she pursed her lips, frowning. "So, you basically abandoned me to go _cope_ on your own, leaving me to—"

His eyes widened as though he'd just realized how she must feel after his abrupt departure from the doctor's office and she felt a twinge of satisfaction.

"It wasn't like that."

"Wasn't it? Then explain, Castle, I'm trying to understand."

He took a deep breath. "You—you had your dad." He leaned toward her. "What was I going to do, brush him aside so _I_ could hold your hand? That was what I wanted, but, I'm not…" he swallowed, his voice dropped to a whisper, "I'm not even your boyfriend."

It was her turn to look away, biting her lip as she did, remembering her off-hand comment that went awry two nights ago. She shook her head. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Why?" His eyes caught hers.

"Because… because I need you, Rick." Her voice had lost its edge at her quiet confession. The words were not angry, or needy, just stating a fact she knew to be true.

He heard and accepted it, his gaze steady. "I needed you too." The words hung in the air between them. "But there wasn't an opening for me. You seemed to have all the comfort you could handle at the moment and there I was, alone and…" his face was flushed, making his eyes appear bluer than ever. He swallowed continued, "I was falling. You had your dad to help you up, but, I was in freefall, and I _couldn__'__t__get__near__you.__" _He paused, frowning. He met her eyes for a long moment, then said very clearly, "I wanted to though." There was a pause and his voice softened. "_I_ wanted to be the one that held your hand through that. But instead, I was on the outside. So I left to deal with it on my own."

He cleared his throat, frowning as he turned away. Rising, he walked to the window and pushed the sheet she'd pinned over it aside, staring down at the street below. His breathing was ragged and his shoulders lifted with every labored breath.

"You didn't return my calls," her voice was soft, without rancor.

"I didn't hear it ring. And then, I was…" He shrugged, miserably. "I was embarrassed by how I dealt with it. I didn't want you to see me like that." Sighing, he dropped the sheet and met her gaze at last. "Kate, I'm sorry for leaving. I didn't—I'd lost hope."

She didn't move or respond for a long moment. Then, "Hope?" she rose, walking toward him.

He watched her come, nodding.

She stopped, an arm's distance away. "How?"

He licked his lips nervously. "For _us_." He studied her reaction, but she gave nothing away. The words came slowly, haltingly. "It seemed like everything I'd been working towards, for our baby, for _you_, was lost."

Her lips parted and she made a soft sound, whispering, "I'm right _here_, Rick."

He studied her for a long moment, then brushed her face with his fingers, sliding them across her cheek, into her hair. She shivered but her gaze never wavered from his. "How are you… handling this?" his voice was soft, aching in his need.

Her gaze dropped then, but she did not pull away. "I'm okay." But her brow furrowed, revealing the struggle.

"_Okay?__"_ His eyes widened and his hand fell away in disbelief. "How can you be _okay_ when _I__'__m_ devastated?"

Her eyes glittered as she stared around the room. "I'm, you know. I deal with things,"

"Kate," his voice dropped, "Don't _tell_ me you're not affected by this. This is… this is _our__baby._"

"I know that," she snapped, pushing a hand through her hair. "God, Rick. My parents went through _three_ miscarriages. They were lucky to have me at all. I knew… I always knew… that…" she turned away, her throat tightening, unable finish, unable to break down in front of him, and yet unwilling to walk away. She blinked rapidly, searching the apartment for something to help her regain her center, to help her go on.

The roses, the tiny, white rosebuds, so perfect in the promise of life and beauty to come.

She'd struggled to contain her tears on her run this morning. Now, they sprang to her eyes again. She closed them tightly, whimpering, but they spilled over anyway; a steady stream down her cheeks and plopping onto her chest. She fought against it, feeling her face screw up as she struggled for control.

There was a movement behind her and she sucked in a deep breath—a sob. And he was there, his hands at her elbows, whispering her name as he pulled her against his chest. She turned in his arms, clinging to him, a fistful of his shirt crumpled in her hand as she sobbed, breaking at last. He rubbed her back in a circular movement, then wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could, neither of them speaking, both breaking with the depth of their pain.

"R—Rick…" she whispered much later, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. "I—I swore I wouldn't f-fall in love with this baby, not till later, not till it was safe. I swore, but I—"

"I know." He drew a deep shuddering breath. "She stole our hearts, without ever meeting us." His breath puffed against her cheek but she barely noticed. "God, Kate. I was so happy thinking we were going to be a family, to have a baby together."

"I know," she whispered, raising her head to wipe the wetness from his cheeks. He still held her tightly against him but she was too tired to fight it anymore. She dropped her forehead onto his shoulder, content, for the moment, with her place in his arms.

"Kate," he whispered into her hair at long last. "Tell me this isn't momentary."

She frowned and pulled back to look at him. "What?"

"Tell me this is about more than our baby. _Promise_ me it won't be business as usual on Monday, pretending nothing ever happened, because I couldn't—I couldn't bear it."

"Rick," she whispered, her eyes wandering to his lips as she lay a hand on his cheek, feeling the hint of stubble beneath the closeness of his shave. Their breaths mingled for a long moment, then slowly, she tipped her head up so her lips brushed his. "Rick," she whispered again, just for the feel of his name on her tongue.

His fingers threaded their way into her hair and he kissed her, at last.

It wasn't their first kiss. That was lost, weeks ago, in a flurry of scattered clothing and sudden passion on the night they'd conceived their child. This was everything a first kiss was intended to be, hesitant, tender, and sweet. They drew back to stare into each other's eyes, an unexpected shyness between them.

She brushed his hair back over one ear where it'd grown long; avoiding his gaze for a moment, and then her fingers pressed against his neck. She drew him nearer to taste him again. She was about to pull away when his hand pressed against her back, their kiss catching them up in a slow unfurling of their emotions, a communion after many weeks of uncertainty.

Tear after tear slid soundlessly over her cheeks, as she wrapped her arms more tightly around her consolation prize. There would be time later to make love and explore the frontier of their relationship. But this moment was driven by the unexpected intimacy of sharing grief, healing and comfort in each other's arms.

Rick pulled away and she looked up to find him watching her, his expression serious. She met his gaze, unblinking, committed.

A long moment passed before he spoke; a catch in his voice that whispered to her of the depth of his feelings. "I need to know that you're _in,_ that this is a beginning. That in a year we'll be more than we are _now_, that you won't disappear into the night." His voice lowered further. "I need to know that _I_ mean something to you, more than your partner, or lover, or the father of your—_our__…"_

Her thumb brushed the corner of his mouth as she shushed him. There was a beat of silence as she held his gaze before continuing. "I'm in, _all_ in, nothing held back." She wet her lips and a gentle smile played with her mouth. He still looked grave, swallowing as she cupped his cheek in her hand, the hollow of her palm cradling his cheekbone as she looked directly into his eyes.

"Rick, yesterday…" her own voice was deeper, her throat wanting to close around the words. She pushed on. "Yesterday morning, I knew that I was in love with you. I wanted to wake up to your face every morning, and fall asleep in your arms at night." She closed her eyes for a moment and a single tear squeezed out, sliding over the curve of her cheek. "I wanted to make a family around our baby, with you," she whispered brokenly. Her eyes opened again, vulnerable and soft, another tear slid down her cheek. "And I still want that."

He took in every nuance of her expression and the cadence of her voice, transfixed. At her final words, he buried his face in her hair again, his lips brushing her neck as he nuzzled closer, his eyes tightly shut as he struggled with the depth of his emotion. His muffled voice gave it away.

"I love you, Kate."

She wrapped her arms more tightly around him. "I love you too."


	27. Ripples

**_January 2, 2012_**

_If you're looking for the promised Chapter 26 deleted scenes, they're up, but you're in the wrong place. Go to my profile and find the story with a similar title, As Good As On Paper-Deleted Scenes & Teasers. There's several different chapters containing deleted scenes. Enjoy!_

* * *

_**November 29, 2011**_

_**The Life of a Story**_

When inspiration struck me with Castle franticly trying to convince Beckett to take a pregnancy test, it was compelling and kept me preoccupied for days. This initial fantasy version was much shorter and it wasn't Lanie who talked Beckett down after she took the test, it was Castle. In that version of the story, he said all the right things and they lived happily ever after in what would have been about 6 chapters. Stories have a way of evolving from conception to completion but the one thing that demanded to be written was the argument. It was _compelling_. It begged to be told.

At that point, there was a rough list of scenes I wanted to include, but I'd no idea how I wanted to end it. Martha and Kate was an important scene, baby shopping and the apartment debacle were others. (In the versions I wrote in my head, she _took_ his apartment.) Jim Beckett always needed to show up…

After publishing Chapter 13, Around the Block, I began to think about how the story would end. It needed a traditional story arc, where the events of the story lead up to a peak before resolving and ending.

Also, character development is crucial to me. In As Good As On Paper, Beckett's character has movement; she starts out tense, closed off, defensive, and distrustful. She gradually begins opening up to the possibility of Castle, admitting her feelings, and preparing to move forward.

On the other hand, by Chapter 13, (Written summer 2010) Castle was static, unchanging, and a little too dreamy. Who _wouldn't_ want to have a baby with this guy? We all love to imagine him that way, but he's an imperfect character who hadn't yet shown any weaknesses. He needed to stumble, he needed to be challenged by events, make mistakes, and he needed to grow. An early miscarriage was an organic way of accomplishing that goal and immediately caught my interest. The Ellie Monroe story arc was added as well.

I should also note that this story was never about Castle and Beckett with a baby. It is a story about the two of them coming together. As the story grew, I was a little surprised to realize how deeply people were investing in the baby. To be honest, the obvious ending everyone was expecting never held as much interest to me. I'm not saying I wouldn't have enjoyed it, just that it felt flat. Creativity is a funny thing and what speaks to one person does not speak to others. If I have regrets, it is keeping my beta readers in the dark this whole time.

With readers getting excited about the baby, obviously, the story needed an epilogue that would deliver, in some form, what they were hoping for. During July 2010, with my second move of the summer imminent, the epilogue was a higher priority, providing a poignant, happy ending to work toward. My decisions were based on what is best for the story, as I see it.

You can't make all readers happy all the time, and ultimately, I'm the one who has to live with it. I love the closure Castle and Beckett ultimately found in each other's arms, and I love the epilogue. They resonate with an inherent belief I hold deeply that pain is part of what makes life beautiful and when you leave that out of the story, you miss out on something exquisite; also that strength of character is honed by adversity and tough times grow you as a person.

I grew up with cancer. My dad struggled with it from the time I was ten years old till I was on the verge of my 19th birthday. Being my formative years, it had a profound effect on my life perspective. I witnessed how the struggles change us, making us better people, and how beautiful it is to see people set aside their issues to grow together in love. It's love that is eternal. Love is the best and finest gift in the world. You will often find that perspective in my writing, as well as the lighter fluff Caskett fans crave.

Thank you for being part of this experience. [Insert cheesey announcer voice] _And now the epic conclusion of… As Good As On Paper!_

Fondly,

Bren Williams

* * *

_This chapter is dedicated to all the baby shippers who've been with me from the beginning._

* * *

_**Ripples **_

_**EPILOGUE**_

_Three Years Later… _

_**Day 200:**__ 66 days to go. _

For about the last month, the baby has assumed the fetal position in your uterus. The legs have been drawn in to the chest, because there isn't room for them to straighten out.

_Harris, A. Christine Ph.D., 1996, __The Pregnancy Journal: A Day-to-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy__, p121_

* * *

It was a luxury not to awaken to an alarm.

They lay in bed, Rick's arm secured her to him, looped just over Kate's generously rounded belly. Her eyes were closed as she enjoyed the rare quiet only a Sunday morning brings. An occasional passing car broke the silence but it was too early for pedestrians in this part of Tribeca. She felt the gentle rise and fall of her husband's breathing, his bare abdomen shifting against her back with every breath, tickling her ear. She gave a contented sigh, smiling with the pleasure of a quiet morning with no place in particular to be.

Her mind wandered over the day to come and what it meant to her, the beloved faces she'd see… A smile hovered over her mouth as Rick stirred, planting a kiss on her neck. He slid his fingers in a wide circle over her rounded belly. "Happy Mother's Day." He smiled and nipped at her shoulder. Her fingers laced with his at the rumble of his voice and he added, "Your first Mother's Day…"

"Alexis might take exception to that."

"You're right." The words were distorted by a yawn. "Happy _Third_ Mother's Day."

"Thank you."

Silence fell between them as she took his hand, sliding it further down her belly, her fingers holding his in place as they listened to their son speaking to them in the language of movement.

"What about Richard James?" She suggested again. She felt him shake his head behind her.

"It's bad enough his dad is famous. Let's give him what anonymity we can." There was silence as they considered the subject of naming their son for the millionth time. "Let's name him after your dad," Rick suggested.

"Richard James _is_ for both of you. And I like it better than James Richard." She was glad he couldn't see her mischievous grin. "We could call him Richie—"

Gagging sounds came from behind her and she chuckled.

"Let's name him after _your_ dad," her lips curved in a tiny smirk.

"Ha ha, very funny." There was a long silence before he spoke again. "What's your dad's middle name?"

Kate's eyes widened perceptibly and she answered too quickly. "Too bad we don't know who your dad was, it'd be nice to have some more family names to draw from."

"Kate?"

"What?"

"What's your dad's middle name?" He refused to be deterred.

"James is good." She rolled over as if fleeing their bed.

Rick sighed in exasperation and reached for the sensitive spot on her side.

She gasped, grabbing for his wrists. "Stop, no," her arms clamped against her ribcage defensively.

"Kaaate." He tickled her again.

She collapsed breathlessly against the mattress, her arms trapping his fingers against her ribs. She could've easily escaped him if she wanted to. Somehow she never did.

"Okay, okay. But he hates it,"

"It can't be any worse than Richard Rodgers," he pointed out reasonably, waiting.

She frowned at him, made a face, then squirmed as he pressed his advantage. "It's _Enos_." She finally gasped.

"Oh, _God_." Rick winced in sympathy and released her. "The _nicknames_. He'd never forgive us. We're not saddling our son with that… How about _Beckett?"_ He folded his arms behind his head with a smug smile as she raised up on her elbow to glare at him.

"Beckett," she repeated, her tone utterly flat.

"Yeah."

"That's _my_ name."

"No, it _was_ your name," he corrected her, his eyes dancing. "Your _name_ is Kate _Castle_."

The frown remained. "So, does this mean you'll stop calling me _Beckett_?

"I can't very well call you _Castle_." He pointed out reasonably. "But, at home, at least, I can come up with _other_ things to call you." He arched a brow at her speculatively.

She shook her head and leaned forward to plant a lingering kiss on his mouth.

His hands meandered down her bare back and to her front. When he spoke his voice was husky. "You are so beautiful." His voice trailed off.

Once, she'd been immune to his compliments.

"Mmm…" She deepened the kiss before breaking away, grinning as she grabbed her creamy satin robe. His eyes roamed appreciatively as she slowly pulled it on, enjoying his attention. At a discreet knock on the door, she swiftly knotted the sash over her belly.

"Come in."

Alexis peeked in at Rick's response and instantly her eyes found Kate. "Happy Mother's Day!" Her strawberry blond curls bounced behind her as she threw her arms around Kate, kissing her cheek.

"Thank you, Alexis!" Kate hugged her stepdaughter tightly, smiling.

Alexis turned to her father with a bright smile, "Did you give her our gift yet?"

Rick nodded, pulling himself upright. "She loved it."

Her eyes widened and she stared for an instant. "Oh great," she finally responded with straight-faced sarcasm. "Then I can go back to school early,"

Rick grinned. "Of _course_ I waited for you."

Alexis dimpled and turned to her stepmom. "Dad and I wanted to give you something special this year, with the baby coming and all."

On cue, Rick reached into the drawer of his nightstand and fished in the small cedar chest he kept there. He drew out a tiny velvet box, as from a jeweler. Smiling at his wife, he patted the bed beside him and Kate curled up next to him, settling into the crook of his arm. Alexis climbed onto the bed too and Rick folded his legs to give her room. With his wife and daughter waiting expectantly, he hesitated, suddenly beyond words.

"We wanted to give you a Mothers' Ring, but it didn't feel quite right." Alexis explained at last. Rick set a small box in her hand. Kate brushed a finger across the burgundy velvet, enjoying its softness. Lifting the lid, her eyes widened at the tiny ring inside. She pulled it out and set it in her palm to admire it. The circle was white gold, and no bigger around than a pea.

"It's a ruby," Castle told her, his voice quiet, "The birthstone of July, for our son."

Holding the baby ring between two fingers, Kate stared at the stone set on the band. "Thank you—"

"There's more." Rick interrupted.

This time is was Alexis who produced an identical box. "We thought you might wear them on the chain with your mom's ring. This one is for me." She was suddenly shy as Kate accepted it from her. "Or _from _me," she muttered.

The second baby ring held a tourmaline the exact shade of Alexis' sparkling eyes. "Alexis, I—" She stared at the gem, then at her stepdaughter, whose shy smile widened. She noticed, again, the hesitation in the wide blue eyes. She leaned over, hugging her. Drawing back, she met the young woman's gaze. There were no words for the shining thing she glimpsed there. All she could do was utter a heartfelt, "Thank you."

Alexis nodded wordlessly, still gripping Kate's arms. She squeezed one more time, before releasing her.

Castle cleared his throat. "One more."

Kate tucked her strand of hair behind her as she settled back into the crook of his arm. "An April birthstone ring for my biggest kid?" So swiftly did his dimples appear and vanish that she wondered if he'd smiled at all in response. He set a third box in her hand.

"An amethyst?" She said in wonder as she lifted the velveteen lid and peeked in.

"No, an alexandrite, for June. For the baby we lost." Startled, her dark eyes met his.

"For the baby that brought us together." She whispered.

He nodded.

Unbidden, tears stung at her eyes as she held the tiny ring in her hand, remembering the life which flared just long enough to bring her parents together.

"Rick, I—" She bit her lip.

"It didn't seem right not to include her," he gently explained, as Kate wiped tears away. He stared at his wife in silence. "Was I wrong?" His voice was soft.

Alexis handed Kate a tissue. "No," she answered, still dabbing at her cheeks. "No, they're perfect."

Rick breathed an enormous sigh. "Imagine my relief!" He wrapped her in his arms, kissing her temple. Then it was Alexis's turn.

"I love you, Kate!"

"I love you too," came the choked reply.

Rick grinned and handed both tissues.

Pulling away, Alexis's eyes sparkled as she looked from one parent to the other. "Mother's Day brunch at Fleur de Sel?"

"Yes!" Rick instantly agreed. "Call Gram and have her meet us there?"

"She's busy. I'll make the reservation though." Alexis disappeared down the hall.

Startled, Rick stared at Kate who was arranging the ring boxes on the dresser. "She's busy? On _Mother's Day?"_

Kate nodded. "Chet's daughter, invited them over for brunch." She looked up and seeing the dismay on his face, smiled. "Why don't you invite her and Chet over for dinner instead?"

She heard him mumbling something that sounded like, "Great idea," as he followed Alexis out of the room.

Alone at last, Kate carefully opened the boxes to admire the glinting gems. The ruby for little Beckett, the tourmaline for Alexis, the tiny alexandrite for the child they lost three years before. It felt complete. A hot tightness grew in the vicinity of her heart and she swallowed.

A small wooden box set on top of the dresser. Opening it, she removed a delicate, silver chain. One by one she threaded the baby rings over the end. She held it up, admiring the light gleaming off the four rings; the three baby rings and the wedding set. She peered at the diamond solitaire, remembering the woman who'd worn it. Had it really been fifteen years since the murder that rocked her world?

She stood in silence, thinking of all that the ring had come to symbolize to her. Every day she'd worn this ring as she tracked down killers.

Careful not to disturb the baby rings, she slid the wedding band off its chain, pressing the stone to her lips before placing it in the tray of her jewelry box. She fastened the chain around her neck and checked the reflection, admiring the tiny rings above the "V" neckline of her satin robe.

"Mother and Chet will be joining us for dinner tonight." Rick reappeared at her elbow, a steaming mug in either hand. "They'll take Alexis back to school afterwards."

Kate smiled appreciatively as she took her cup from him. "Thank you," she murmured.

Leaning in for a hug, she rested her forehead against the crook of his neck, breathing in the warm smell of coffee and the musky scent she'd come to associate with her husband in the morning. He slid his arm around her waist and brushed a kiss next to her ear. She straightened to show him his gifts on the delicate chain.

He fingered each one. "Where's your mom's ring?"

"In my jewelry box, where it belongs." At his questioning look she explained. "Mom's murder drives me in my career. Every time I arrest another killer, I have the satisfaction of knowing that for one more family, there are answers. That one more killer is off the streets." There was a hint of steel in her voice, until she raised her eyes to meet his. "But that's no longer the center of my life."

He nodded his understanding and set their mugs on the dresser.

"It's not enough for me, Rick." Her eyes searched his. "Not anymore." She licked her lips and continued. "I'm not the person I was when I first wore that ring. I want to look forward, now. Not back."

"But why did you put the ring away?"

"To remind me…" Her brow furrowed as she swallowed and began again. "To remind me that my family comes first." She met and held his eyes for a long time.

Finally, he nodded. "Your Mom would want it that way."

Kate ducked her head, nodding. "Yes, she would."

**_End_**

* * *

_Again, the deleted scenes are posted under the story, As Good As On Paper - DELETED SCENES & TEASERS. That is a SEPARATE story, not this one._

_Follow me on Twitter for story updates, at bren_williams._

**_But first, it's been a long road for Castle and Beckett. What do you think? Favorite parts? Misgivings? _**

**_I'm always interested in your comments and fair criticisms. Please review._**


End file.
